


The Root Of The Problem

by SpiceFlux



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Minor Violence, Post-Endgame, Spoilers - No Mercy Route, Spoilers - Pacifist Route, but also you might want to brace yourself for the possibility, floweypot - Freeform, i'm not gonna say if there's character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:50:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 50,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5947983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiceFlux/pseuds/SpiceFlux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flowey had been perfectly fine minding his own business alone in the Underground, thank you very much, until one day Frisk came by with a flowerpot. Now Flowey was stuck on the surface in a piece of pottery smaller than a mixing bowl, and he was bored out of his flowery little mind. </p><p>In this Post-Pacifist Floweypot AU, Flowey will have to learn to deal with the aftermath of his choices and figure out how to live with others when he doesn't have a soul anymore. Being good is hard when you're incapable of love and compassion, but they say anyone can be a good person if they just try, right?</p><p>Oh, and a new threat has been plaguing the surface as of late. But it's probably nothing to worry about...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Consequences

According to the human internet, golden flowers didn't exist. Flowey had spent at least a few hours on Frisk's computer, searching for various flower types by color (golden) and petal number (6), and could find nothing that even vaguely resembled his own form. Strange. Maybe golden flowers were a rare indigenous species? That must be it. Golden flowers as a whole hadn't just gone extinct, had they? It hadn't been THAT many years since that ill-advised escapade. (since getting killed with Chara)

Finally Flowey turned off the power to Frisk's computer with a single disgusted friendliness pellet. (Bullet) Humans needed to step up their horticulture game; this searching was insufferable. But at least it was better than doing nothing.

\---

 

Flowey hadn't asked to be brought here. Frisk had come along to the Ruins with a flowerpot, but Flowey had been perfectly fine minding his own business (moping). As a result, he had resisted at first, but finally consented to being replanted on the surface as long as Frisk promised to keep silent about Flowey's identity. (More specifically, the fact Flowey used to be the prince of monsters who had died some years before, and whose mother Toriel had since adopted Frisk. It would be awkward if she found out, to say the least.)

So now he lived in a cozy flowerpot decorated with multicolor hearts, sitting on Frisk's desk this early morning. Flowey had protested the hearts at first, but Frisk's determination was not a force to be trifled with. And Flowey had to begrudgingly admit that the hearts had grown on him after a while. The pot itself was a little on the small side, nothing like the sprawling Underground that Flowey was used to burrowing through, but it was all he had with the garden off-limits. (with his presence in the garden expressly forbidden by Toriel)

While Frisk was away at school, Flowey had to find SOMETHING to do with his time. No more talking to (manipulating) people, no more playing (murdering), no more anything! What was a flower to do?

And to make matters worse, he was trapped in the flowerpot. Nothing to look at except the plain, unchanging contents of Frisk's bedroom: ivory walls, plain periwinkle curtains, an oak desk, a bookshelf. And on the opposite wall, a freestanding lamp and Flowey's old armoire, moved from the Underground some months prior. Under the bed was a dusty old trunk of toys that had once belonged to Toriel's other human children, and before that, Flowey himself. All of these except the desk, of course, were too far away for Flowey to reach, even when he extended his stem to its fullest length. 

The entirety of the surface was open for him to explore, and here he was, stuck in a flowerpot. Figures.

A beam of sunlight flashed in his eyes. Attention piqued, Flowey stretched out towards it, catching it on his face. The sunlight felt nice. Maybe that came from being a flower? Flowey thought he could remember liking sunlight from Before, but those memories were old and dusty (heh) with disuse. Who even knew anymore?

A door shut from a few rooms over. Aw, great. SHE was up. 

Flowey's expression sunk. Toriel was dutiful in providing water and soil, but it was clear she only tested her thin patience with Flowey out of love for Frisk. Her demeanor towards Flowey was chilly at best, and that hurt more than Flowey cared to admit. Not that he could blame her, all things considered.

It wasn't long before some kind of breakfast smell started wafting in from the kitchen. Eggy, with an undertone of vegetables. Was it a quiche? It smelled weird, like it had been made with human food. Flowey couldn't stomach the stuff (didn't even have a stomach anymore), but of course Frisk had to have it, so Toriel had been experimenting lately. Ugh.

Flowey made exaggerated gagging faces for effect.  
Frisk's toys in the corner were nonplussed.  
Flowey glowered; it kinda took the fun out of making funny faces if nobody was around to appreciate it. 

Underneath the gross human food smell, Toriel's cooking still smelled like fire magic, though. Some things never changed.

Flowey glanced at Frisk's nearby bookshelf. Two full shelves of snail-related tomes (thanks mom) and some human history books borrowed from Alphys. He wondered if he could chance throwing a pellet at the shelf to dislodge a book to read? It was risky. Flowey's pellets had caught things on fire before, and he suspected that incinerating a borrowed book would not put him in anyone's good graces.

The only alternative was to try creating a vine. But the flower pot was too small, and had too little soil to support the creation of any meaningful vines. Flowey still had a little energy left from breaking the Barrier, and that energy could be put to use in that way, but he’d been conserving it for something else. A simple mundane vine would be a shameful waste of that power. 

No, the task would be accomplished with a pellet, or it wouldn't be done at all.

Flowey stuck his tongue out and aimed at the bookshelf. If he was careful, he could slowly ease the book from off the shelf...  
"Come on!" Flowey whispered in frustration when the book refused to dislodge under the force of the pellet. 

Mew Mew Kissy Cutie leered at him from the book's spine. Flowey's eyes narrowed. Maybe a few more pellets might do the trick...

The pellets strained against the pages of the book. Push too hard, and they'd tear through the book's binding and he'd get in trouble. Push too lightly, and he'd be here all day! (figuratively speaking, of course. He'd be here all day anyway.)

Finally the book moved slightly. Flowey filled with determination. One more pellet oughta-

RIP

Flowey's eyes went wide as the pellet drifted askew, tearing through the book's spine and landing on Frisk's bed.  
The soft, flammable comforter ignited immediately.

Flowey no longer had hands with which to facepalm, but luckily he was able to headdesk on the desk that his flowerpot sat upon. It was barely eight o clock on the morning, and Flowey had already managed to set something on fire. That must be some kind of new record.

 

\---

Fury didn't begin to describe Toriel's reaction when the fire alarm started going off. And fear didn't begin to describe the unholy terror she struck into Flowey's heart (the place where his heart used to be). Flowey was lucky to escape the encounter with his life, and even then not with all of his petals.

So it was decided that Flowey (now more than slightly singed) would be relocated to the living room so Toriel could keep an eye on him. And he would have a pleasant chat with Frisk after school got out.

At least the living room was a nice change of scenery. Beige walls and carpet, cheerful art on the wall (mostly depicting snails, as well as one illustration of a pie), and ornate furniture filled the room. The heavy maroon curtains had been drawn to fill the room with natural sunlight. Frisk kept the bedroom blinds closed a lot of the time, so Flowey hadn't gotten to see much of the world outside, but Toriel had placed his flowerpot on a cheery windowsill overlooking the backyard. Flowey could see the dark, rich earth, and a happy white fence under a blue sky. 

Everything on the surface was so nauseatingly PICTURESQUE. How could anyone stand it?

Oh, but that soil, that fresh tilled earth. What Flowey wouldn't give to roll right out this window and sink his roots into any patch of earth bigger than a mixing bowl. Except Toriel had stated, in no uncertain terms, that Flowey was not allowed to do that. Not after all those fun (lethal) stunts he'd pulled back in the Underground, some of which Frisk had warned Toriel about. Even Flowey was not above consequences, and Frisk had promised that the skeleton next door would give Flowey a bad time if he tried anything funny, including resetting the timeline (not that Flowey could do that anymore with Frisk around, anyway). 

Not worth the risk.

Flowey could have burrowed away into the Underground right before Frisk had swept him up into that wretched pot, but he hadn't. Why hadn't he burrowed away? He must be a glutton for punishment. Ugh. A radio cooking show blared obnoxiously from the kitchen. It sounded like it could have been one of Mettaton's, but it was hard to tell. Radio hosts all sounded alike. Heck, humans in general all sounded alike! Life was a blur of repetition and bleakness.

Nothing to do now but wait for the other shoe to drop.

\---

"Oh, welcome home, Frisk!"  
"Hey."  
"I made a special treat today! Butterscotch Cinnamon pie. Your favorite!"  
"...what happened?"  
"..."  
"Come on mom, you only make butterscotch-cinnamon if something really bad happened. Just tell me."  
"Um... Well...Flowey tried to set your bed on fire."  
"...what"

\---

Frisk temporarily moved Flowey back to the bedroom. This was against Toriel's wishes, but Frisk insisted, and finally Toriel relented, admitting that she couldn't oversee all of Flowey and Frisk's interactions. So she temporarily granted them the respect of privacy.

Just Frisk and Flowey now. Frisk had a stony, unreadable stare.  
Flowey averted his gaze.

"Why'd you do it?" Frisk asked.

Flowey cringed inwardly. Better to admit the truth, or preserve what little dignity he had left? An awful choice. But Flowey was tired of lying.  
"Heh. Right, that. Funny story there. Would you believe that I actually wasn't trying to set your bed on fire?"  
"No."

Welp. There you have it, folks. Telling the truth doesn't matter if everybody assumes you're a liar either way! Not that Flowey could blame them.

"Heh. Worth a shot, I guess," Flowey muttered.  
Frisk was unperturbed. "Mom's not happy with you, you know."  
Flowey's eyes went wide with mock-surprise. "Oh GEE, I hadn't figured that out!" He cried out, flailing a few singed petals at Frisk. "No duh!"

Frisk's eyes trained on Flowey, squinty and curious. "Really, why did you do it? I know you're better than that."  
Flowey chuckled darkly. "You thought I was better than... Frisk, you really are an idiot sometimes."

"Asriel."

Flowey flinched. Even all this time later, sometimes just hearing the name would send a hollow ache through Flowey's soul (or rather, that empty place where his soul used to be).

"Don't call me that!" Flowey shouted, his face melting and distorting in rage. "I'm not him. He's dead and never coming back! You've got to deal with ME now!"

Silence.

The corner of Frisk's mouth betrayed a hint of a sad smile. That nauseating pity! Flowey rolled his eyes. It hurt to roll his eyes; his face still felt crispy from his encounter with Toriel. Ugh!

"I'm not giving up on you, Flowey," Frisk said, still smiling. "I think deep down in your twisted little heart, you can be better. You just need the right... encouragement."

Flowey's face set into a hard line as he stared coldly back at Frisk. He couldn't do this. Not again. If his own parents couldn't fix him, nobody could.  
(Except maybe Chara. But Chara was dead and never coming back.)

Despite all the people around him, despite Frisk's valiant attempts, nobody understood what it was like to be so EMPTY. Flowey was completely alone in this. He turned away.

Flowey could hear Frisk sigh a little.  
"I won't give up on you. Mom might, Sans might, everybody in the whole wide world might, but I know the truth. … Listen, it's not like you can reset anymore, Flowey. Make this run count, okay?"

Flowey turned around slightly, but Frisk had already picked up his pot and was moving it back out to the living room. It must be nearly supper time by now. Flowey could smell snail pie wafting from the kitchen. It had always been his least favorite dish. 

It still smelled delicious. It smelled like a home from a lifetime ago, happy and loving and long since faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! Part one.
> 
> Not sure how many parts this will be. As many as it takes to tell this story to completion (and it does have a story arc planned for it!), and however long it takes to make it so those parts exist.
> 
> If I don't update within a month, bug me in some way. That's just me being lazy. I should update before then though. Maybe a week? Don't quote me on that.


	2. Complications

Flowey quickly began to lament his distance from Frisk's computer. How ironic that in an attempt to alleviate his mind numbing boredom, Flowey would find himself even more bored than before?! How incredibly frustrating.

Flowey stared out the window some more; the view had already become somewhat stale. Fence, ground, sky. Every now and then he could spot Papyrus's gangly form as it popped over the fence from next door; he must be gathering some sort of herb for dinner. When Papyrus wasn't driving that ridiculous sports car around town, you could bet your bottom dollar he was in that kitchen or in that garden, unless Undyne had roped him into some crazy shenanigans, which happened often. Sans appeared frequently but sporadically, and it was anyone's guess what he got up to these days.

As the sky began to tinge yellow and violet, Frisk and Toriel ate supper and went downstairs to watch TV or something. It was probably Frisk watching some cutesy cartoon while Toriel read a joke book or something. 

Flowey laughed bitterly. After that, they'd change into pajamas, and she'd tell Frisk a bedtime story before a final good night kiss, and then it would be lights out. Flowey knew the routine. Flowey had never forgotten the routine. He may have forgotten how it felt to have fingers and toes, but never how his mom would scratch the top of his head when she used to hug him...

And there it was. That aching feeling again, that pang of absence, that void from where a hole had been torn in the fiber of his being, never to be mended. Whenever anything tried to play at his heartstrings, the hollow echo in response only served to remind him of what he'd lost. 

He should have stayed in the Underground. The boredom of solitude couldn't be worse than this... This EMPTINESS. 

Angry tears burned in the corners of his eyes; Flowey blinked them away furiously. He was better than this. In the Underground, he'd been a GOD. Gods did not cry because they missed their mommies. This behavior was beneath him.

Flowey took a deep breath, and then another. It was getting dark out. Better close the blinds.

The cord to the window's blinds dangled just barely within reach. Flowey was able to stretch over, wrap his stem around the cord, and somehow find the traction to pull it shut. Simple tasks like closing the blinds became infinitely more difficult without hands. So incredibly frustrating.

With the sun down and lights out, there wasn't much left for Flowey to do. Maybe it was time to get some shut-eye. It had been a long day.

\---

Flowey awoke early the next morning to a knock on the door. He grumbled; it was too early for this. Most decent people were asleep at this hour, let alone knocking on other people's doors. What the heck??

The knock came a second time. Flowey was wholly unable to unlock the door, and he suspected that shouting "Come in!" would not go over well this early in the morning. So Flowey could only gaze wearily at the door.

A third knock. Flowey's jaw clenched. Who was doing this? Go away! Come back when people were actually awake!

A fourth knock. Flowey lost his patience.  
"Frisk! Toriel! Would one of you idiots get the door?!" he shouted. 

No response. Flowey shouted again; this time muffled noises came from one of the bedrooms. Good! Someone was awake to deal with this pest. 

Eventually Toriel came out in nightgown and slippers; Frisk stumbled closely behind, eyes half-closed. (Moreso than normal, if such a thing was possible.) Toriel opened the door.

"Sans! What a surprise. What in heaven's name are you doing up so early?"

"Sorry, Tori. We got a situation here.”

\---

Fifteen minutes later, Frisk and Toriel were dressed and riding in Papyrus's car towards Mt. Ebott. Flowey’s flower pot rested on Frisk's lap; coming along hadn't exactly been his idea of a good time, especially at this hour of the morning, but Sans was insistent.

“Okay,” Sans said from the front seat. He turned to look at everyone in the back seat while Papyrus drove. “So I have this old device in the shed out back. Been busted for ages, almost threw it out, but an hour or so ago it starts going bonkers with noise and stuff, like an alarm got tripped.”

Toriel frowned. “What kind of alarm?”  
Sans’s closed his eyes. “The temporal anomaly kind of alarm. Means someone's been fiddling with timelines.”

The car grew silent. Nothing could be heard except the sounds of the car engine as Papyrus drove through some dark, quiet neighborhoods. Eventually Toriel's glare rested on Flowey.

“Was this your doing?” she asked coldly.  
“No!” Flowey protested. “I haven't been able to do any of that stuff since I met Frisk.” This was the truth.

“Kid?” Sans asked seriously. “You haven't…”  
Frisk’s head shook.

“k. So if it wasn't either of you, then we got another time traveler on our hands, and that's a big problem. We gotta figure out who or what’s doing this.”  
“Humans can't normally time travel, for what it's worth,” Frisk pointed out.  
“And from what I understand, it is impossible for monsters to do so,” Toriel added. “We cannot sustain the necessary levels of determination.”

Flowey bristled at that statement a bit, but had to remind himself it was true: he was neither human nor monster now. That was why he was capable of having determination, and ultimately how he'd been able to break the Barrier. 

Neither human nor monster. Right.

“Yeah, so that's why we're going to the source of this whole mess,” Sans continued. “The device pinpointed our friend to somewhere in the Underground. I don't know what we're going to find down there, but it might not be good. Hopefully all of us can handle it, though. Tori, as queen of monsters and all, I figured you should know what was going on, and Frisk, as our ambassador who has a stronger soul than the rest of us combined, thanks for coming.”

“Then why am I here?!” Flowey cried out.

Sans chuckled darkly. “You’re here so we can keep an eye on you while we figure out this whole mess. Not gonna leave you unattended with a time traveler on the loose, but I’m sure you’d love that.”

Yeah, probably should have seen that coming. Flowey sighed.

By now, they’d reached their destination, and Papyrus parked the car at the base of Mt. Ebott. Sans suggested that Papyrus stay behind to call for help if the rest of the group didn't return in a reasonable time frame. Flowey suspected that Sans was just trying to keep his brother out of harm's way, but he wasn't in the mood to spoil the gesture. Besides, Papyrus was his favorite toy, and it'd be a shame to break it before he even got to play with it.

The barest hint of dawn had crept above the horizon, lighting the mountain with pale gold. Flowey felt confident he would never quite get used to all the colors that came with dawn and dusk. It was a lot of pretty colors to dress up what had served as monsterkind’s prison for some number of centuries.

A short hike later, and the group reached the entrance to the cave, once thought of as the exit. Then they entered the Underground.

“Hey, since we're back in the Underground, just thought I'd offer…” Flowey started.  
“What,” Toriel growled, voice dangerous.  
“Well, if we're in such a hurry to see what's going on down here, if you put me back in the ground, I can pop up anywhere and come back! Ten seconds, tops. And then we don't have to go on this big long trek!” Flowey gave a wide smile.

Sans chuckled. “Nice try, pal. But yeah, I'm not super keen on letting you prance around the Underground unsupervised. You know, because of the whole murder thing. Nothing personal.”  
Flowey glared at him, but didn't press the issue. He'd lost that battle a long time ago.

Then it was through New Home’s elevator, the Core, and more elevators through Hotland. The group walked in awkward silence. Boring.

When they reached Waterfall, a thought crossed Flowey's mind.

“Hey. Sans.”  
“Yeah?”  
“You said the time-traveling stuff happened a few hours ago, right?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Because I don't remember any big jumps happening.”

Now Sans stopped walking to look at Flowey. “I don’t think I catch your meaning.”

Flowey grew irritated. “I remember stuff that happens whenever someone messes with the timeline! Whenever Frisk died, I'd get yanked back with the following reset and keep all my memories from it. I don't remember anything like that happening last night.”

Sans closed his eyes. “So. If I'm following. What you're saying is nobody loaded a SAVE last night.”

“Not that I'm aware of!” Flowey exclaimed.  
Frisk nodded in agreement. “I think I'd have felt it, too.”

Toriel pursed her lips. “This is a conundrum.”  
Sans chuckled. “Heh. You said it, lady.”  
“Let us keep going.”

Then more walking. And walking.  
And walking.

And yet more walking.

“Ugh! How much farther do we have to go?” Flowey whined.  
“Pipe down, squirt,” Sans said lightly. “ You're not even doing any work there. Frisk's over there carrying your flower pot like a champ.”  
Frisk grinned. Flowey pouted.

“I mean, we're almost to the end of Snowdin,” Flowey said. “Where are we going, the end of the Ruins?”

Sans did that thing where he stared slightly to the left instead of answering.

“Aw great. You gotta be kidding me!” Flowey deliberately bonked his head against the side of his flower pot.  
Eyes rolling a bit, Frisk snickered. “You're such a drama queen! Wait, scratch that. Drama prince.”

Toriel glanced curiously over her shoulder at Frisk.

Flowey's eyes went wide. Frisk wouldn’t DARE...

“You know, because some of the first words you said to me were ‘I am the prince of this world's future.’ Plus a bunch of other stuff about me being clever enough to not kill anyone, but one day I'd meet a relentless killer and finally lash out in frustration. Good times.”

Toriel lost interest and looked away.

“Yeah,” Flowey grunted. “The best.” 

It was official: He was going to kill Frisk when they got home.

More walking, and then it was through the door outside Snowdin, and the forest gave way to purple bricks.

“Almost there,” Sans said under his breath.  
“Finally,” Flowey muttered.

And then it was back to the furthest reaches of the Ruins, where Frisk had initially fallen down, and where Flowey had ended up after breaking the Barrier. (He'd been Asriel then, though. Just for the barest of moments.) Jagged cave walls ascended to a natural skylight above, which illuminated a small patch of ground.

That patch of ground used to be carpeted with golden flowers, but now it was a mound of loose earth and upturned rocks.

Toriel's hands started shaking.  
“Mom…?” Frisk said slowly, voice filled with concern.

Toriel knelt at the ground, her eyes wide and watery as she took in the sight of the upturned flower patch. “My child…” she whispered.  
“Uh… tori, you got something you need to tell us?” Sans asked gently.

Toriel closed her eyes. Story time.

“The first human to fall to the Underground was a child named Chara,” she murmured, her voice a little wobbly.

“We took Chara into our family- me, Asgore, and our son Asriel. Things were wonderful and perfect for a time, but Chara grew ill, and one day passed away. Asriel was killed in an accident some time later.”

Flowey stared at the ground, jaw clenched. He hated this story. Frisk's hand wandered from the base of the pot to a spot near Flowey's stem. It was an uninvited, but nonetheless... comforting gesture. Like a hand on the shoulder, acting as a reminder that everything would be alright.

“Things turned for the worst, and I left the castle, resigning as queen of the Underground. But I took Chara's body with me, to give it a proper burial. I did just that, right here.”

Somber silence filled the cavern.

“But it seems someone has tampered with the grave of my dead child,” Toriel said, voice low. “Why.”

Sans put his hands in his hoodie pockets. “I dunno.”

Flowey didn't answer; he was lost in thought. Memories surfaced from a timeline he scarcely remembered, save in occasional nightmares. A timeline where Frisk didn't fall at all, but where Chara had risen from the dead by the force of sheer determination and gone on to slaughter everyone in the Underground. Those nightmares ended with a slashing knife, a grinning child, and red number 9s as far as the eye could see.

Had Chara reset the timeline then, or gone on to destroy the whole world? Flowey couldn't say.

But if Chara was here now, everyone might be in a world of trouble.

\---

Flowey kept quiet about the possibility that Chara was on the loose; bringing it up seemed like it would be in bad taste given Toriel’s current emotional status. Sans eventually decided that there was nothing else to be done here, and they all decided to head home. The group walked in somber silence, and Flowey didn't have the heart to chide them for it. He had other things on his mind, anyway.

Chara. His best friend in life, his soul mate in death (heh, literally), and sibling/role model always. They'd shared laughs, games, secrets, and a mission to save monsterkind from the evil humans-- until he'd screwed that up, of course. But despite everything, despite coming to realize that Chara was probably not a great person and maybe a little unstable, Flowey still kind of wanted to see his best friend again. Was that terrible? Maybe that was terrible, but it also felt reasonable. It was okay to like people who made mistakes, even if they hurt you before. Flowey hoped that was true, at least.

It was probably a moot point, though. This whole thing was probably the result of a buggy old machine going off for no reason, and some monster getting into trouble and vandalizing the Ruins. Heck, maybe Asgore came back for the body the way he did the rest. It was more likely than spontaneous resurrection. Flowey tried not to get his hopes up that Chara had magically come back to life.

He noticed Toriel staring at the ground as she walked, disconsolate. It was kind of sad to watch. She had always loved humans, Chara and Frisk especially. Where Asgore had always done what was best for monsters, she had always done what was best for humans, and this core philosophical disagreement was the source of almost every fight the two of them ever had. Not that they ever fought back then, anyways. (before their kids were killed on the surface at least)

Sans walked with his eyes almost closed, like he was deep in thought. Frisk walked staring straight ahead, filled with determination. Flowey wondered if Frisk and Chara would have gotten along. For all of their differences, the two of them really did have a lot in common: the same haircut, striped sweaters, bright red souls, and obscene levels of determination.

Maybe… Just maybe he'd get to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2! Things are starting to heat up now. 
> 
> Fun fact: I write installments of this fic on my phone in Google Docs, and when the doc gets too long, it becomes unwieldy to use. SO I might post a few close together updates over the next few days to get the text out of the doc, to make it easier to keep writing. That's good news for you because more story! Yay! Just maybe don't expect this as a regular thing, haha. 
> 
> Bottom line: Keep a lookout for more chapters in the next few days maybe.


	3. Consideration

By the time everyone got home, the sun had started shining decidedly in the sky, and it was officially early morning. Toriel decided that she was awake for the day, but Frisk returned to bed for a few more hours of sleep. It was a bright Saturday morning with no school, so Toriel allowed it and busied herself with some housework. Flowey suspected she was trying to get her mind off of the events from earlier.

Not that he could blame her.

A few hours later, close to lunch time, Toriel called Asgore to tell him of what she had learned, but the call barely lasted a full minute before he came knocking on the door to discuss the matter in person. Toriel's patience for Asgore was almost thinner than her patience for Flowey, but Chara had been his child too, and Toriel was a little more lenient with him today than she might have been under different circumstances. She fixed some tea and then they discussed what to do next.

Flowey could almost hear the conversation from the dining room. Straining against his pot, he stretched towards the kitchen to hear whatever he could make out.

“Asgore, did you move Chara's body?”  
“What?”  
“Did you?” Toriel pressed.  
“No, of course not. It was not with the others in the basement. I do not know what happened to it.”  
“I buried it in the Ruins,” Toriel said quietly.  
“Ah.”  
“Did you move it from the Ruins?”  
“No, I did not.”

Silence.

“I went there early this morning. Somebody tampered with the grave.”  
Asgore's voice grew a little louder now. “What? Who? … Why?”  
“I do not know!” Toriel cried out, clearly distressed.  
“Shh. It's alright. We will figure this out.”

Toriel took an audible breath.

“I cannot imagine why someone would do this. Do you have any idea?”  
“No, but I will ask today. Somebody must know something. We will get to the bottom of this.”

Then Toriel emerged from the kitchen. She looked very tired, and she sat down in her reading chair by the fireplace and retired to the pages of a book. Asgore started towards the door, but stopped when he saw Flowey.

“Howdy,” Asgore said simply.  
Flowey chuckled a bit. Typical Dad. Flowey replied in kind.

“Your soil looks a little dry. Let me get you some water before I go,” Asgore said, returning to the kitchen. He came back quickly with a mug containing a carefully measured quantity of water, which he gently poured into Flowey's pot. Where Toriel had never quite mastered the art of pouring the right amount of water (“Not too much, not too much! What're you trying to do here, drown me? Bet Frisk would love that!”), Asgore got it perfectly right without even needing to ask. Impressive.

“Hey, you actually poured the right amount of water. Nice.”

Asgore smiled a bit. “I have a long time’s worth of experience caring for golden flowers. Although golden flowers can grow in the wettest of swamp lands, they flourish best with less water, in my experience. Though I must say that I have never seen flower that can talk before.”

“I think I'm one-of-a-kind in that way,” Flowey replied.

“And you have six petals. That is unique for a golden flower, much like a four-leaf clover. I have only seen one other, a special flower that once grew in the throne room back in the Underground.”

Heh. All this time later, Flowey still could've pointed out that spot in the throne room within the inch. He'd reset to that very spot on so many occasions.

“...But that is in the past. Do you have a name, my friend?”

For some dumb reason, Flowey instinctively thought “Asriel” in response to that question. But he obviously didn't say THAT because he wasn't BRAIN DEAD.

“I'm Flowey. Flowey the flower.”

Asgore laughed. “I can't think of a better name for a flower.”  
“Neither could I,” Flowey thought, but he didn't say that either- he just laughed too.

“It was nice to meet you, Flowey. See you later.”  
“Bye!”

And then, with one last cursory glance at Flowey's flower pot, Asgore was gone. Toriel hardly seemed to notice.

\---

Frisk wandered out a little while later, looking much more well-rested.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Flowey heckled. Frisk smiled patiently and went to the kitchen to pour some cereal.  
“Hey, I'm going downstairs to watch TV. Wanna come?” Frisk called out to Flowey from the kitchen.

Flowey accepted the offer, and Frisk carried the flower pot and a bowl of cereal to the basement. Nothing like cartoons to keep one's mind off of the perils of a temporal anomaly.

\---

The two watched TV for a lot of the day, more than Toriel usually allowed. Eventually they got tired of that, and Frisk switched to playing some old human video game on a console Alphys had found in a junk shop.

“Come on, the key was back in the other room. Weren't you paying attention?” Flowey taunted from the couch.  
“I was trying not to die!” Frisk replied, eyes locked determinedly on the screen.  
“You know you can kill enemies if they're about to kill you, right? You can't keep running away forever.”

Frisk’s head shook quickly.  
“Come on. In this game, it really is kill or be killed. You can't solve everything by being nice.”  
“You know the rule: No fighting if it can be avoided.” 

Then Frisk's character took a blow from an enemy and bit the dust.

“Frisk, you really are an idiot. Just kill the enemies! That's literally the purpose of the game!”  
But Frisk would not budge on the issue. When the main character respawned, Frisk went right back to running away from all the enemies again. It was entertaining to watch.

“This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen,” Flowey remarked. Frisk just laughed.

Then Toriel's phone rang from the chair in the corner of the basement. Frisk's eyes got wide. “I better get that.”  
Frisk paused the game and picked up the phone. Undyne's loud voice forced through the fuzzy receiver.

“Hello? Is this Toriel?”  
“No, this is Frisk.”  
“Aw! Hey, punk. Um. Listen, I gotta talk to your mom.”

Frisk crept up the stairs. Toriel was putting dinner in the oven, by the sound of it, but Flowey could tell by how slowly she did so that she was moving through a cloud of grief. It was safe to assume she wasn't feeling up to idle conversation.

“She's … kinda busy right now. Can it wait?” Frisk told Undyne after returning downstairs.  
“Man, I wish it could. Asgore told me about everything from this morning, and I promise I wouldn't bug her unless it was really really important. But I swear it is.”

Frisk frowned a bit and looked over at Flowey, gesturing hesitantly at the kitchen upstairs. The message was clear: Should we bug mom?

Flowey cringed a bit. “Probably,” he mouthed at Frisk.

Frisk nodded, still frowning some. “I'll go get her.”

Flowey could hear Frisk run up the stairs and give the phone to Toriel before darting downstairs and waiting at the edge of the basement, listening.

“What are they saying?” Flowey mouthed at Frisk. Frisk shushed him, but then ran over and brought Flowey's pot to the bottom of the stairs so they could both listen.

“Hello, Undyne.” Toriel said into the phone, sounding tired.

Flowey couldn't make out Undyne's words from here, and by the look of it neither could Frisk.

“No, please, just tell me. I would rather know than not,” Toriel replied.

Indiscernible words hesitantly came slowly through the receiver. Toriel inhaled sharply, but said nothing. Undyne started talking faster, her words occasionally punctuated by a “Yes” “Mm-hmm” or “Alright” from Toriel.

“Have you told Asgore?... Very well. Has he contacted human law enforcement?”

Frisk stiffened. That sounded like bad news to Flowey.

“...Very well,” Toriel said finally, her voice dangerously low. “I promise we will get to the bottom of this. Call back if you learn anything more. Goodbye.”

Then the phone beeped and Toriel started walking towards the stairs. Eyes wide, Frisk snatched up Flowey's pot and darted to the TV, unpausing the game before Toriel made it downstairs. They totally weren't just eavesdropping on their mom. No evidence, no crime.

“Frisk? Could you please pause your game? I have something important to tell you. Flowey… You should probably know as well.”

Frisk obliged and looked at Toriel attentively.

Toriel took a deep breath.

“There have been… Attacks. Since this morning, five monsters have been found dead on the streets.”

A shocked silence.

“Oh no,” Frisk said, sounding deeply hurt.

“Why?” Flowey asked Toriel, frowning a bit. He wasn't feeling terribly torn up about the monsters' deaths, but it didn't take a genius to deduce from social cues that he was expected to be. 

Toriel sighed deeply. “We do not know. Human law enforcement has been…. Uncooperative. Many do not overly care about the deaths of monsters, and they appear to have obstructed our investigation and removed the dust before we could examine it.”

“That's ridiculous!” Frisk cried out. “Police have a duty to the public good, right? How does that not include monsters?”

Toriel smiled sadly. “Child, it is not so simple. It has been a struggle reconciling human laws with monster ones. With our differing laws and court proceedings, the current state of affairs dictates that humans will deal with human criminals, and monsters with monster ones. But…” Here she frowned a bit. “I still think that the humans have overstepped their jurisdiction by interfering with the scene of the crime.”

“I'm sure they were just trying to be helpful?” Frisk said, most likely trying to lighten the mood. “Probably some janitor saw some dust and mistook it for the regular kind. I bet most humans don't know stuff like that about monsters. Probably it wasn't on purpose.”

Toriel smiled at Frisk. “I suppose that makes sense. This is why you make such a wonderful ambassador. Someday we will sort messes like this out, but right now things are… tricky.”

Frisk nodded sympathetically. Flowey rolled his eyes a little.

“In the meantime, it sounds like we have someone very dangerous on our hands. Be careful, alright?”

“Okay,” Frisk said simply.  
“Yes, Mom,” Flowey said mockingly.

“I am going upstairs to make some phone calls. Behave yourselves.”

“Ok,” Frisk said, turning the game back on.

Conversation wasn't very lively after that news, though.

…

Toriel had to leave the house pretty soon to take care of some related business. She didn't get the chance to make dinner before she left, so Frisk eventually heated up some leftovers from the night before.

“You want any?” Frisk called out to Flowey, who had been moved to the dining room while Frisk ate.

“Is it human food or monster food?” Flowey replied. 

“Human,” Frisk called back.

“Then a glass of water is fine.”

Frisk obliged and soon returned with reheated snail pie and a glass of water for Flowey. The glass had a little straw in it, so Flowey could drink from the cup without assistance.  
He took a sip. Water and monster food were the only things he could consume, and then only limited quantities of the latter, but it wasn't like he needed food anyway.

“Mom seems worried about the murders,” Frisk said casually. “Guess I can't blame her though.”

“Yeah.”

Frisk ate a few bites of pie in silence.

“...hey, I was meaning to ask you.”  
“What?” Flowey asked, a little more grumpily than intended.

“Did Chara have determination?” Frisk asked curiously.

Flowey thought for a moment. 

“Chara was the most determined person I ever met, other than maybe you,” Flowey finally answered. “But... that didn't stop us both from dying on the surface. I don’t think Chara could do the tricks you or I can.”

Frisk nodded. “Right maybe that was a dumb question. “

Flowey didn't answer. Frisk kept eating.

“I just got thinking is all,” Frisk continued between bites. “I mean, you said the first thing Chara did upon reaching the surface was try to kill a whole bunch of people. And I guess since we just saw Chara's open grave and all, I just jumped to a silly conclusion. Chara can't just wake up from the dead and kill everyone, right? That would be kind of silly.”

Flowey looked away, cringing a bit.

“Right?” Frisk said, frowning.

Time to come clean. Flowey sighed.

“There was this one timeline. It was weird and I don't remember a lot of it, but Chara did exactly that. Came back from the dead and murdered everybody in the whole Underground. It was kind of a mess. Sans kicked Chara's butt a few times, though. But after that was done, Chara killed me, and I couldn't tell you what happened next.”

Frisk's jaw gaped open. “How the… What…”

Flowey laughed nervously. “I know, right? Completely caught ME off guard. I guess I was too happy to see Chara again to really question it until it was too late. My mistake! Don't worry, I paid the price for it.”

Frisk just kept staring with a horrified expression.

“Honestly, sometimes I wonder if any of that was real,” Flowey admitted, trying to do damage control. “It's not like with normal saves/resets. Those memories are fuzzy. That's why I didn't say anything sooner.”

Frisk's mouth set into a hard, straight line. “This doesn't feel right . We should tell Mom.”

Flowey raised his eyebrows. “Are you kidding? After the way she reacted to seeing Chara's grave? Yeah, that's gonna go over well!” He laughed.

Frisk sighed, probably realizing Flowey had a point there. “Fine. Then we should tell Sans. He knows the most about time mumbo jumbo.”

“Ugh!” Flowey cried out, eyes rolling. “I hate dealing with that smiley trashbag. Do we have to tell anyone? They'll all figure it out soon enough. Chara's gonna get caught eventually, assuming it's even Chara at all- either way, not our problem!”

Frisk's head shook. “Nope. If Chara's gonna keep killing, then I've gotta put a stop to it. And I can do just about anything if I'm determined enough.”

Flowey groaned. Frisk was being unreasonable, but arguing was clearly a fruitless venture. “Fine. Let's get this over with.”

Frisk picked up Flowey's pot and they headed next door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh! Time for a neat little excursion.


	4. City

“Hello, Frisk!” Papyrus greeted when Frisk knocked on the door. “You have good timing. I am almost done with this batch of spaghetti!”

Frisk's eyes went wide for a second. Papyrus's spaghetti had improved markedly since his time in the Underground, but the threshold of edibility was still a distant goal. Flowey always figured that teaching Papyrus to cook was more about the journey than it was the destination. 

“Oh, you know what? I actually ate before I got here. Sorry, Papyrus!” Frisk answered gracefully.

“Tsk tsk! This is unacceptable. You will simply have to come by another time, then!” Papyrus said with a toothy grin. “But… If you didn't come by to eat spaghetti, why did you come? Do you need help with something?”

“Kinda,” Frisk replied. “I need to ask Sans something about the machine he was telling us about. Is he around?”

“Hmm,” Papyrus said, eyes narrowing. “He can be tricky to hunt down sometimes, but I am sure he is… somewhere. Have you tried Grillby’s new restaurant in the city?”

“That's kind of far away. We were hoping he'd be here at home,” Frisk remarked.

“Well, he doesn’t appear to be home right now, but I can drive you over! It'll be like a fun road trip between best buddies!” Papyrus was positively beaming. Frisk grinned in turn; Toriel wasn't much for driving, and excursions to the city were rare.

“I'm gonna go leave a note so my mom knows where we are,” Frisk said excitedly, running out the front door. 

Flowey was completely sure that Toriel would throw a fit when she got home and saw it, and started to say as much, but Frisk was already gone.

Just Flowey and Papyrus now.  
“Hello, Flowey,” Papyrus said happily. 

Flowey knew that Sans had told Papyrus to keep his distance before, but Papyrus was about as good at remembering instructions as he was at holding grudges, which was to say entirely incompetent at both. Beyond that, he held an unfalteringly saccharine attitude towards Flowey. It was… refreshing. 

It was also a nice reminder that Flowey’s favorite toy still worked. Excellent.

“Howdy, Papyrus!” Flowey said, grinning. “What have you been up to lately?”  
“Not much!” Papyrus answered. “Just a lot of driving around on the surface. It's so big up here! And Sans tells me that this valley is only one tiny part of the surface, and that it keeps going on and on for basically forever!”

Flowey giggled. “Well yeah, silly! The surface is the biggest thing out there. Except maybe the sky, I guess. I wouldn't know-- I don't get to see much of it.”

Papyrus's grin faltered. “Why not?”

“Well, duh! I'm stuck in this flowerpot,” Flowey said, allowing just a tinge of sadness to creep into his voice. “I only get to see what Frisk takes me to see. Other than that, it's just a view of the inside of the same old house all day.”

“I suppose I never thought about that,” Papyrus said, looking now a bit unhappy. Maybe Flowey would get somewhere with him…

“Well, Sans says that you have to stay in the flowerpot for your own good….”

Flowey's expression deflated. That trashbag.  
“But! I, the Great Papyrus, cannot allow one to live on the surface while being unable to see any of it. I shall take you on rides in my fancy car, and we will explore the surface together!”

Interesting. Maybe this could work out after all.

Flowey put on a bright smile. “Really? You'd do that for little old me, after everything?”  
Papyrus brightened. “Of course! You are my best friend, aren't you?”  
Flowey's smile widened. “I sure am!”

This was why Papyrus was his favorite.

\---

Papyrus had a long list of places he wanted to take Flowey, which he described at length and in great detail while the two of them waited for Frisk. For the most part, Flowey nodded patiently and tried to look excited. Truth was, it was hard to feel excited about ANYTHING anymore, but nobody else had to know about that.

Papyrus couldn't fix him. It was sweet of him to try, though.

“So it's settled!” Papyrus continued. “Grillby's bar today, but there are so many cool things to do on other days! Undyne said she and Alphys went to a place called a beach, and reported that it was extremely fun. And this city has dozens of pasta restaurants - that's dozens of dozens of kinds of spaghetti! Oh, and Sans was telling me about this place called a museum, which is a room full of skeletons! Humans have such good ideas for things to make rooms full of.”

“Yep!” Flowey said as a door opened. Frisk must be back.

“Hey guys!” Frisk greeted from the front door. “Whatcha talking about?”

“I, the Great Papyrus, am taking Flowey on a number of road trips!” Papyrus announced proudly.

Frisk's eyebrows raised a bit. “Oh. Huh. That sounds cool, I guess.”

“It won't just be cool-- it will be cooler than anything else that has ever been considered cool in the history of coolness!” Papyrus said, beaming. “But that is neither here nor now! Right now we are going to Grillby’s to see if we can find that brother of mine. To my car!”

Then Papyrus pointed dramatically at the ceiling and sprinted to the garage. Flowey chuckled in spite of himself. What a tremendous goofball.

“Well, we'd better go before Papyrus leaves without us,” Frisk said, picking up Flowey's pot. 

\--- 

26.  
The number of minutes it took to drive to Grillby's.

2:09.  
The length of one particularly nauseating pop song, with which Papyrus had apparently become enamored.

 

The number of times Papyrus consecutively played the song during the drive: 12.

The number of times Papyrus sang along: 8.

The number of times FRISK sang along, that traitorous scum: 5.

The number of instances of dancing that took place in the car: 3.

The number of times Flowey was encouraged to sing along: 9+.

The number of times Flowey actually sang along: ZERO.

The number of bones broken in an effort to discourage further singing:   
...Also zero, sadly. But that wasn't for a lack of trying. Flowers in general just aren't built for that kind of thing. 

A few bullets were fired. They were nonchalantly absorbed by one of Papyrus’s bone attacks from the front seat-- while he was still driving, no less. What the heck.

Flowey ultimately lost count of the number of times he contemplated murder. He promised himself he would destroy Papyrus's stereo if it was the last thing he did. But the drive eventually ended, and a bubbly Frisk carried a seething Flowey into the bar.

For a monster establishment, Flowey would call it seedy, pun permitting. The peeling wallpaper, stained floorboards, and dim lighting weren't exactly classy, and most monster parents wouldn't be thrilled about letting their kids wander around in it. Frisk seemed unperturbed, though, and commented on the charming music and safe atmosphere. Flowey concluded that human bars weren't to be messed with.

“Hello, Grillby!” Papyrus shouted to the counter. “Have you seen Sans anywhere?”

The bartender, a fiery monster named Grillby, looked up from a dish he was washing. He seemed to pause in thought for a moment before holding up one finger and walking to a different part of the restaurant.

“We got lucky,” Papyrus said to Frisk. “It seems like Grillby knows where he is.”  
“Great!” Frisk replied.

The dinner rush crowd clogged the bar's main thoroughfares, making movement difficult, but Frisk slowly moved through the crowd towards the direction Grillby had gone, carrying Flowey closely.

Flowey caught a few strange looks from some monsters as they moved. That was frustrating. Most folks knew there was no such thing as a golden flower monster, but these bozos hadn't even been able to properly identify Frisk as a human back in the Underground, and they had NO RIGHT to-

“Flowey, chill,” Frisk said gently. Flowey hadn't realized he was making scary faces again. Oops. He took a deep breath and his face went back to normal.

“Frisk, do you even see what they're-”  
“Yes, and it's rude, but you're better than that.”  
“I don't WANT to be better than that!” Flowey seethed, his eyes widening into gaping voids. “I want them to suffer.” His smile turned jagged and sharp.

Frisk bopped him on the head. “Cut that out. We're in public, you know.”

Flowey gave a sour expression. “You're such an idiot, Frisk.”

But Frisk just smiled. This battle was over.

Then the two of them were distracted by a strident voice:

“Sans, there you are!”  
“Oh, hey, Paps. What's up?”  
“Frisk needs to discuss something urgent with you.”

Sans stiffened, and his eyes went a little darker. He seemed to know this wouldn't be good news. 

Still smiling, though, he turned to Frisk. “What's up, kiddo?”  
Frisk took a deep breath. “Stuff about… this morning.”  
Sans chuckled and closed his eyes. “Of course it is. Come on, let's go sit down over here.”

Sans gently elbowed through the crowd, closely followed by Papyrus and Frisk. They all turned a corner to a less trafficked corner of the bar and a cozy red booth table. A nearby window opened up into the rest of the city; sunset filtered in and cast ominous shadows into the bar.

“Kay, should be a little more private here,” Sans said. “Let's hear it, kid.”  
Frisk nudged Flowey. “Go on.”

Flowey sighed. “Okay, so I can remember prior timelines and stuff, right? And that's pretty consistent. But there's this one timeline that's… fuzzy.”  
“Fuzzy,” Sans repeated flatly.  
“Right!” Flowey exclaimed. “It's weird. I can remember it almost like a dream, but I'm not sure if it's real or not. But anyway, it's about… well, it's about a human like Frisk who murdered everyone in the Underground, and then killed me. Chara.”

Sans's pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks.

“You… you gotta be kidding me.”  
“Sorry!” Flowey said unapologetically.

Sans's smile looked strained. “That doesn't make sense, though. Either you remember or you don't. There's no such thing as a fuzzy timeline.”

“I dont know what to tell ya!” Flowey said brightly. “It doesn't make sense to me either, but Frisk insisted that I tell you. It’s like a bad dream I thought I forgot, the kind that fades by morning. ”  
“Didn't know things like you could sleep,” Sans muttered.

Something in Flowey snapped.

“What is your DEAL?! I came here to help you, but you still refuse to treat me with an ounce of decency!” Flowey bared his teeth. “I don't have to put up with this. Frisk, let's get out of here.”

Frisk glared at Sans, but didn't leave.

Sans chuckled darkly. “I'm not apologizing, kiddo. That weirdo has killed everyone dozens of times, and I don't trust it _nearly as far as I can throw it._”

Flowey bristled. “Listen here, you smiley trashbag. You think you're so great because you never did a thing to hurt anyone, but you never lifted a finger to HELP anyone either, and in my book that's just as bad.”

He gave a jagged grin. “You could have saved everyone, time and time again! You could have saved them, but instead you sat back like some kind of sicko and watched it happen, over and over, because that was EASIER. Timeline to timeline, choice to choice, and you never wavered from your apathy- not even once! Not even when your brother’s life was on the line! Not until it was TOO LATE. I couldn't believe it! I thought you cared about him at least a little more than that!”

Sans's eyes were empty black pits now. “You wanna have a bad time, flower? Cause if you keep running your mouth the way you're going-”  
Papyrus stood up quickly and walked away, visibly shaking.

A shocked silence.

Frisk glared at Sans and Flowey. “Are you happy? Are you two proud of your behavior?”

Flowey clenched his jaw. He wasn't admitting weakness. Not in front of that skeleton.

Frisk breathed deeply. “Okay. We came here on business, and we're going to settle this CALMLY and CIVILLY. Sans, do you know anything about that other timeline?”  
Sans was silent for a long moment. “Got reports about an anomaly,” Sans muttered. “Something stopping and resetting timelines all over somewhere else. I thought it was... your ‘friend,’ but it could be something else. No promises though.”

Frisk nodded. “Okay. We have this idea that Flowey’s story might be repeating itself now. Thoughts?”  
Sans closed his eyes. “Better not be.”

He was silent for a moment. “You two go home and keep clear of whatever’s doing this, you hear? We'll get this sorted out.”  
Frisk nodded. Flowey refused to acknowledge the demand.

Sans sighed. “Papyrus drove you over here, right, Frisk? He's probably at the pinball machine by the restroom. You'll want to get him to take you home before dark. Your mom’ll be worried sick. I'll … go see what I can dig up on this.”

Then Sans stood up and walked towards the exit. Frisk nodded and left with Flowey's flowerpot. Flowey couldn't get away from Sans soon enough.

Frisk navigated the crowds, looking for Papyrus.  
“Just to be clear, that wasn't very cool of you,” Frisk said flatly to Flowey. “Sans was needling you, which was not okay, but you could have handled that a lot better.”  
“I don't care,” Flowey said truthfully, still simmering with rage. “He was awful, so I was awful back. I would do the same again.”

Frisk said nothing, but kept darting through the crowds. All that dodging back in the Underground had left Frisk an expert at avoiding collisions, and progress was slow but graceful.

“No but really,” Frisk continued. “Saying that stuff about Sans in front of Papyrus was really mean of you.”  
“What was I supposed to do?” Flowey shot back. “Sit there and take it? Not even make an attempt at defending myself? Because that worked out SO WELL last time!”

Frisk sighed and looked at Flowey. “Nobody expects you to just-”

But this lapse in Frisk's attention failed to prevent a collision with a pair of elbows. The collision jostled Frisk's grasp on Flowey's flowerpot, and it went tumbling, tumbling to the ground…

A shattering sound pierced the room's idle chatter.

Flowey's now unencumbered roots sank through the ground, finding a gap in the floorboards of the bar. He hit soil in less than a second.

Flowey grinned. He was free.  
*pop*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where things start to get interesting. :D


	5. Circumvention

Flowey didn't care anymore. To heck with consequences, with Toriel's mandate, with Sans’s looming threat: he was tired of being trapped in that pot, and this was finally his chance to be truly FREE.

As he burrowed through the floorboards, the last thing he saw was Frisk's wide expression of horror. Sorry, Frisk! But there was no way Flowey was going to let this opportunity pass him by. Toodles!

Besides, he had business to attend to. And maybe an old friend to see again.

Flowey hadn’t been exaggerating on that trip to the Underground: his burrowing skills were such that if they'd let him scour the place right then and there, he could've covered the entire space in a very short period of time and found Chara almost immediately. But right now he was in an unfamiliar city a half hour's drive from Mt. Ebott. He'd have to get back to town before he could do anything else, and then he could start searching for Chara.

It shortly became clear that he'd spent too long in that pot. His roots were stiff and atrophied from disuse, and he could only burrow for 4-6 feet before he had to pop up again. Travel would be slow at this rate; before, he'd been able to burrow for dozens, maybe even hundreds of feet at a time. So frustrating. If he'd realized the price of accepting Frisk's offer, he probably would have thought twice before coming to the surface in the first place.

Flowey wasn't entirely sure which direction to head once he left the building, but after a little exploration, he caught sight of Mt. Ebott in the distance. Aw yeah, that's the ticket. 

As he burrowed, old memories of the first time he'd seen Mt Ebott from the outside bubbled up unexpectedly.

He'd been carrying Chara's body to the center of a small village, probably the same one Frisk lived in now (except a long time ago). The spring air had been thick with the scent of golden flowers, and the pollen in the air had made him sneeze all the way down the mountain as he followed the path to the village. (He didn't sneeze at pollen anymore, heh.) 

The village proper had been carpeted with golden blossoms, and his heart had been on fire, burning with determination that wasn't entirely his own.

He remembered the setting sun as it poured over the valley, and how BRIGHT it was. He'd never seen anything so overwhelmingly bright in his entire life. When he initially faltered to get his bearings in the overpowering sunlight, Chara had quietly taken over, pacing steadily through the village. Chara knew every inch of the place, and stepped confidently along paths that had been taken hundreds of times before.

Flowey had been Asriel, then. He and Chara were going to be the heroes who saved the Underground. They would be the ones to release monsters from their prison, and make humanity answer for their crimes.

They were going to be the future of humans and monsters. 

But their plan failed.

Flowey could remember telling Frisk that he didn't regret that decision, that fateful choice to not kill any humans that day, but now he wasn't so sure. Was it really worth everything he'd gone through since then, and the loss of his soul? Hard to tell. He didn't know if he would say the same now. But, as he burrowed through the surface of the valley, drawn to Mt Ebott and Chara like a beacon, he remembered why he'd agreed to the plan in the first place. 

Because Chara was his best and most trusted friend.  
Because he'd never really dared to consider that the venture would be less than successful.  
And because no matter what, he would always come when Chara called. He always had.

The sight of that familiar mountain in the distance…

It filled Flowey with determination.

\---

After a long time of burrowing through the ground, he finally made it to the outskirts of Frisk's hometown. The sun had fallen by now, and the western sky graduated sharply from cyan to indigo. Searching in this dim light would be tricky, but at least Chara would probably need to sleep at some point. Flowey often slept out of habit, but he didn't strictly need it anymore as a flower, and this might be one of those times where that came in handy.

The streetlamps overhead provided ample lighting to areas covered in concrete, but these were more often than not areas he couldn't travel through because there was no soil. He found himself traveling through people's front yards so he could follow the sidewalk as closely as possible, but he'd still have a rough time searching this way. Hmph! What did humans have against soil, anyway? Why'd they have to cover up perfectly usable ground with asphalt and concrete?? Such a waste.

Suddenly, the peaceful silence was broken by the squeal of police sirens. 

That sounded interesting. Flowey pursued the source of the noise.

That human car really knew how to move! It throttled through neighborhoods faster than Flowey could pursue, in his weakened state. But it was still easy enough to track by the obscene amount of noise it was making. After taking a few shortcuts through people's yards, Flowey arrived at the car's destination- the front sidewalk by someone's house- a few minutes after it did. He sprouted quietly by a mailbox and listened.

“Don't touch that!” A large, blue human yelled to a shorter blue human. Oh, the short one was just bending down to the ground to look at…

A pile of dust. Interesting. It had spattered a five-foot radius of sidewalk. How gruesome! Growing up, his mom would have never let him watch TV shows with that kind of violence, let alone see such a sight in real life. Of course, it was nothing compared to some of the stunts he'd pulled back in the Underground. Heh.

The short human stood up. Now it (he? Flowey had never been good at guessing humans’ genders) was a little taller than the large one.

“Sorry boss, wasn't sure what that was, just taking a look.”

“We got orders not to touch any monster dust for some reason. We just have to leave it alone for monster authorities to deal with.”

“Aw!” The tall one pouted. “It's making a mess in this neighborhood, and people are gonna see it and flip a lid! We gotta do something…”

The large one shook his(?) head. “We gotta leave it, I'm telling you! Otherwise we gotta deal with that monster queen again, and let me tell you, she ain't so peachy when she gets mad!”

Flowey snickered. This was true.

Suddenly both humans bolted upright like they'd been electrocuted. “Didja hear that?” The tall one asked.

Aw crap.

The large one narrowed his eyes and looked around. His eyes passed over Flowey; Flowey gulped and squeezed his eyes shut until they were hardly visible. He'd seem like a normal flower to anyone looking at him.

“Hmm,” the human said in a low growl. “Must be hearing things. Been working on this case too long, I'm telling you.”

“Don't I know it!” The tall one laughed. “Well, we just gotta hand this one over to the monster forces and our work here is done. You wanna do the honors?”

The large one grumbled. “That fish lady scares the dickens outta me, to be quite frank! But yeah, I'll make the call.”

He stepped away and pulled out a cell phone. The tall one stared at the dust again. It really was making a huge mess. No wonder the humans had tried to clean up the ones from earlier.

“Hello?” The large one said into his receiver. A muffled voice exchanged pleasantries on the other end. The two went back and forth until the voice on the other end started shouting frenziedly (and unintelligibly). But the last part was loud and crystal clear, even from Flowey's spot dozens of feet away: “DO NOT TOUCH IT. Just stay there and I'll be there in like two seconds!” 

And then the line went dead.

“Now what?” The tall one asked.

Flowey knew that it was time to leave. Dealing with Undyne would be a hassle, and he'd prefer to avoid that encounter if possible. If he left now, he might miss her entirely. Besides, it looked like the dust had scattered recently; whoever had done it might still be nearby!

Flowey considered his options. Judging by the way the dust fell, the monster had been attacked from the east. Chara was the kind of person to keep walking right along after attacking, so Flowey would have the most luck going west. If Chara was moving at a walking pace, that significantly lowered the area he had to search.

The labyrinthine street structure was all but incomprehensible to Flowey, but he started wandering anyway. Street by street, yard by yard, he sprouted and skimmed his surroundings for Chara. But he came up short each time. Where could Chara have gone?

...Unless it was something or somebody else entirely. But Flowey wasn't ready to give up yet. He kept searching and searching. He had all the time in the world.

“HEY YOU!” a voice called out.

Scratch that. His time had just grown very short. 

Flowey popped into the ground.  
“NO NO NO WAIT!” the voice shouted, from closer now. It was Undyne. Crap.

Flowey peeked out quietly and looked around, desperate for an escape. He spotted a heavy stone fence splitting off someone's back yard; he disappeared and sprouted on the other side of it.

“No!” Undyne shouted, bashing the ground audibly with an energy spear a few feet away from the fence.  
“Listen here, you little weed! I know you can hear me! If it was up to me I'd mulch you into my breakfast tea, but Frisk is worried sick about you! Queen Toriel reassembled the Royal Guard just to look for you, even when there's something more dangerous that we should be hunting for! You're a selfish turd, and if you cared about LITERALLY ANYBODY but yourself, you'd come home immediately!”

Flowey smiled coldly. Maybe he had time to have some fun with Undyne.

A tree hung lazily over the stone fence. It wasn't exactly soil, but he'd be able to use it to peek over the fence. Drawing energy from the surrounding soil, Flowey snaked up the trunk’s base, peering over the wall with an empty, jagged grin.

“You don't get it, do you?” Flowey said in a voice like gasoline, slippery and caustic.  
“I don't care about myself. I don't care about ANYONE! In fact, I CAN’T anymore, because I D O N ' T H A V E A S O U L ! ”

On the last word, his face bloomed into a field of teeth and empty eyes. Distortion twisted his voice into something unrecognizable. Vines squirmed in the ground at Undyne's feet.

Undyne's eyes turned to dinner plates; she materialized a spear in each hand. Despite this, her voice was strong:  
“I don't care! You don't scare me, flower! Come with me willingly or I will take you by force!”

Flowey inched closer, his empty eyes trained on Undyne's fearful ones.

Then, in a voice like cyanide, he whispered, “I'd like to see you try.”

He saw a twitch in her wrist, and withdrew just as a spear impaled the airspace he had just inhabited. Even in his weakened state, she was too slow for him, and dodging her spears was child's play. He burrowed into the ground and started to make his exit, burrowing and sprouting as quickly as he could manage on the other side of the fence.

Undyne responded by jumping over the stone fence, her eyes dilated and furious. 

Flowey hadn't expected that. 

Undyne side-armed a lobby of spears at him; he squeaked and burrowed into the ground. Escaping would be tricky when she had him in her line of sight. This REALLY wasn't how this was supposed to go.

After a few terrifying minutes of dodging certain death, Flowey finally popped around a corner-- but before Undyne could catch him, he burrowed into the ground and stayed burrowed. Undyne turned the corner and screamed in frustration.

“Don't you think you can hide from me, pest!” she shouted, stabbing the ground with her spear at random. Flowey could feel the shockwaves in the ground whenever she did; if she somehow managed to stab him in the ground, he'd be in a sorry state afterwards. But the corner of the back yard he was hiding in was pretty substantial in size. Undyne would be at it for a while before she came close to finding him.

“What in heaven's name is going on here?” a wrinkly old human shouted from far away. 

The voices were muffled by the dirt, but Flowey could make out the ensuing conversation:  
“Sorry, human,” Undyne said with stiff courtesy. “There is a dangerous monster on the loose, and he's hiding in your backyard. I have to take him into custody!”

Aw. Undyne had incorrectly called him a monster. It touched his nonexistent heart.

“Dangerous monster? Well, shoot! I told them, I told everyone this would happen when you all came out of that mountain. Monster criminals and violence galore! Should a stayed in, if you ask me!”

Ooh boy.

Undyne's voice was brittle and barely restrained.  
“WHAT DID YOU SAY.”

“I'm saying that all we've had is trouble since you all came! Maybe we'd all be better off if you'd stayed in that mountain of yours!”

Flowey sprouted out of the ground a little. He simply HAD to see what happened next.

Undyne's hand quivered with rage, clutching an energy spear in a death vice grip.  
“Don't you tell me what my kind should have done,” Undyne spat, her voice thin and sharp. “Your kind put us there in the first place, and we have survived in spite of your continued crimes against us. So if our sudden reappearance is INCONVENIENT for you, then you ONLY have yourself to blame!!”

The human looked unperturbed, which was amazing given that Undyne was THIS close to using it as a living pincushion. 

“I'm just saying is all!”

Flowey grinned in morbid fascination, hoping that Undyne would eviscerate the human on the spot.

Undyne took several deep breaths before throwing her spear at the ground.

“You know what? Screw this!! I was trying to protect you from the maniac on your property, but you have a stronger soul than me anyway- YOU deal with him!!!”  
Then she stormed off before she completely lost what remained of her temper.

“PSH!” The human said with a sideways grin. “I bet there wasn't even a monster at all! I bet it was all some kind of excuse to come onto my property and cause a ruckus!”

Flowey chuckled and popped out of the ground.  
“Howdy!”

The human blinked a few times. “What're you supposed to be? Are yous that old dangerous monster she was all going off about? A cute little talking flower? Pfft!” The human doubled over in laughter.

Flowey giggled. “Oh, I'm not a monster, silly!”

“I’M YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol  
> rip in pieces


	6. Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! just wanted to say thanks to you all for reading this far.
> 
> if you like what's done here, you might consider leaving a comment; i love comments, i read them all, and i will often respond to them if i have something to say. alternatively, consider passing this fic along to your friends who also like flowey.
> 
> no pressure though. i love you just for reading this. enjoy this chapter!  
> (it's kind of a doozy heh)  
> (watch out for the new tag)

Flowey had some fun terrorizing the human for a while, but when he got tired of that, he realized he'd let the trail go cold in his moment of indulgence. Darn. Maybe Chara was somewhere around, but it would take a miracle for Flowey to catch up now.

And according to Undyne, it sounded like he had the entire Royal Guard on his tail? Flowey laughed. What an honor! He hadn't had the entire Guard after him since… well, it had been a while, at least. And he hadn't even killed anyone this time! Why all the fuss? Undyne had mentioned taking him into custody; was this punishment for his crimes in other timelines? That seemed a little unfair.

On the other hand, Undyne had mentioned that Frisk was worried. Flowey could totally imagine Toriel sending out the cavalry on that basis. It was sweet to imagine that Frisk cared enough to bug Toriel into doing that. Meaningless, but still sweet.

Either way, he'd have to stay on his toes (figuratively speaking). Getting skewered by Undyne wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, and it might have the unfortunate side effect of drastically reducing his lifespan. Frisk might reset to bring him back, but it wasn't worth the risk. One bout with Undyne was PLENTY.

Anyway, he needed to think of a strategy here. The town wasn't big by human standards, he’d been told, but it was still bigger than the entire Underground and large enough that he'd have trouble finding Chara if all he did was pop down roads at random.

Flowey remembered Chara once telling him a story about a candy shop that sold the best chocolate in the valley; maybe the place was still around. Chara could be a bundle of mysteries wrapped in an enigma, but Flowey knew better than most that this particular mystery bundle was especially fond of chocolate. Chances were better than not that Chara would stop for candy at some point.

It wasn't much to go off of, but it was better than nothing. Flowey headed downtown, where the buildings got older and Chara's candy shop was likely to be.

About a half hour of searching later and Flowey found it: Ruby's Confectionery. It stood in a quiet little corner of the old part of town. Old-fashioned scrollwork and carving gave the place a charming atmosphere and welcoming aura, negated only by the dark windows and locked doors. The place seemed to be closed, which made sense given the hour of night, but the baked goodies in the front window made it seem like it would be open tomorrow, hopefully.

A decorative wishing well in front of the shop held a small patch of golden flowers. It looked so inviting and comfy. Flowey knew he could probably keep searching for Chara, but he was so tired. He'd been burrowing and sprouting for hours, and he wanted nothing more than to get some sleep in that well. Fishing around through the well’s wooden paneling with a vine, he eventually reached soil and was able to burrow into it. 

Then he was surrounded by a patch of golden flowers again. It felt familiar. Maybe it reminded him a little of that one patch at the end of the Ruins where he had sometimes gone to enjoy the sunlight...

...No. That wasn't right. This patch reminded him of the flowers in the throne room. 

When Flowey first woke up in the throne room, in a long-since forsaken timeline that felt like eons ago, he'd been scared and confused. Everything was so big, and the throne room looked so WRONG from that close to the ground. The initial discovery that he'd been transformed into a flower had been shocking and distressing, to say the least, and he'd quickly learned to resent his new form and its limitations.

In those early days, before Flowey had learned how to burrow through the ground, he'd been more or less trapped in the throne room, surrounded by other golden flowers as a perpetual reminder of the mistake he had made, and what he had become as a result. It was maddening. To make matters worse, the fire magic he'd previously been learning no longer worked in his new form, leaving him completely defenseless, powerless, and helpless.

That, combined with the newfound consequences of not having a SOUL, had made life in the castle unbearable. And that was why he had left.

Being stuck in a patch of flowers like this brought back those old echoes of fear and helplessness, but Flowey knew that this was no longer the case. He'd come a long way since that first day in the throne room. He'd learned how to burrow, he'd designed new seed-like bullet patterns, and learned how to do some neat tricks with vines and stuff. He'd also learned how to better cope with the ever-present void in his being, and sometimes he could even almost forget sometimes that he didn't have a SOUL anymore.

But all of that was old news anyway. No use dwelling on the past.

For now, it'd be safer for him if he hung out here for a while. Undyne and the others probably expected him to be out causing trouble in town. They'd never look for him resting in a flower patch. And even if they did, they would never find him among all of these other nearly identical flowers.

The other flowers splayed petals that nudged and poked at his face, which was irritating but not intolerable. It wasn't like he could tell them off anyway. Flowey closed his eyes and tried to think of something else.

His mind drifted to old memories of eating dinner with his family once upon a time, when everything had been perfect, and newer memories of his battle against Frisk, when he'd torn the universe to shreds and built it back together again. Memories of laughter, butterscotch pie, and thick fluffy sweaters mingled with memories of grisly dust piles, sticky flower seeds, and shiny, sharp blades. Finally, a tangle of images and smells and sounds mixed in his mind and carried him away into a dreamless sleep.

\---

Flowey woke the next morning to the smell of something pungent.

“What the heck?” Flowey said, scrunching up his face before erupting into a fit of coughing. “What IS this?”

A gangly, long-haired human stood in shock, holding a spray-bottle of weed killer.

“Well geez, that would explain it!” Flowey said disdainfully. “That stuff is nasty! Get that away from me!”

The human stood there like Napstablook- awkward, unresponsive, and clearly not prepared for interpersonal interactions today.  
“Uh… but my job is to spray around the flowers…”

Flowey shook his head in disgust. “Gross! I’m out of here.”

Then he popped into the ground and found his way back to a crack in the sidewalk. The human stood there frozen to the spot, processing everything that had just happened.

Flowey selected a comfy, sunny spot by the entrance to the candy shop. Apparently somebody had watered the flowers in the well while he was napping, so he could wait here for a long time if need be. He closed his eyes and took in the sunlight, listening for any vague sign of Chara.

Suddenly, a tiny hand toyed with Flowey's stem…

“BACK OFF,” Flowey roared at a tiny human who was trying to pluck him from the ground.

The human jumped back in fear before bursting into tears and running back to its parents. Flowey knew he should probably feel bad, but remorse was just one of those things he couldn't really feel anymore. He gave a kind of shrugging motion.

Then it was waiting and waiting. 

\---

Aaand maybe a little bit of dozing off. Oops.

After several hours, a voice from inside the candy shop startled him awake:

“Greetings.”  
“Back so soon, darling? Went through that five pound bag already?”

...Chara.

Flowey sprouted between some of the old floorboards inside.

“Yes,” the child answered. Despite everything, it was unmistakably Chara: same haircut, same sweater, even the same heart-shaped locket (an old present from Flowey a long, long time ago). Chara could have been lifted straight from the pages of a family photo album. For a moment, it was easy to believe that nothing had changed.

“Well, if you're here for another bag, I'm only happy to help!” the shop owner said with a wink from behind the counter. 

“Yes please,” Chara said stiffly.

“Ah, such manners! I wish there were more kids like you, dearie!” The wrinkly old shopkeeper laughed. “You remind me of a tyke who used to come by here ages and ages ago. Used to buy those same five pound bags. I never understood that! The teeth I have left would rot and fall out on the spot if I tried something like that! Hahahaha!”

Chara didn't move an inch or react in any discernible way. Flowey inched a little closer.

Chara stood motionlessly at the counter, stiff as a tin soldier. Meanwhile, the lively shopkeeper filled an enormous bag up to the brim with all sorts of chocolate: caramel clusters, chocolate covered almonds, chocolate dipped pretzels, and dozens of varieties of truffles and other bite-size delights.

“Be careful in the sun now, you hear? It'd be a shame if all that went and melted on you!”  
Chara nodded once, and pulled out some money to pay. How did Chara have money, anyway?

Flowey thought for a moment before realizing that Chara had probably accumulated some cash from killing all those monsters. Welp.

“Anything else I can do for ya today?”  
Chara didn't answer, just turned around and left with the chocolate.  
“Come back soon!” the shopkeeper called out.

Flowey burrowed out of the store, watching as Chara walked away. He couldn't believe it. The two of them, being alive again after everything-- it was a tiny, enormous miracle.

Chara started plucking pieces of chocolate from the bag and eating them like popcorn. 

Flowey kept his distance, watching and following.  
How was he going to make his approach?

In the back of his mind, something primal urged him to keep away, foggily remembering that Chara had slashed him to ribbons in another timeline. Another rational part of his mind reminded him that he knew Chara wasn't that great of a person, and was trouble more often than not.

But these thoughts were easily pushed aside by other memories. Memories of an injured, desperate Chara, hurt by a long fall to the Underground. Memories of family dinners and gatherings by the fireplace to tell stories. Memories of bad butterscotch pie and good laughs. Memories of games and scary faces and jokes.

Memories of a broken promise.

He had to make things right.

Chara was in no hurry and walked slowly down the street. A hint of a limp still showed in Chara's right leg; although Toriel had used her best healing magic on the broken limb after Chara had first fallen, her skills with healing humans had been quite rusty, and the work had not gone as hoped. Flowey knew that Toriel had always felt horrible about it, but Chara had waved it off at the time.

Eventually, Flowey sprouted a few feet ahead.  
“Chara? Chara, is that you?”

Chara jumped as though struck by lightning. Panic filling their eyes, Chara pulled out a pocket knife and whirled around, looking for whoever had said that.

“Easy, Chara! It's me, your best friend!”  
Chara finally looked down. Flowey gave a smile.

“Howdy!” Flowey offered.

Chara seemed to calm down a bit.

“Do you recognize me?” Flowey asked.  
Chara blinked once in response.  
“Asriel…?”

Chara was the only person on the planet allowed to use that name, Flowey decided.

“Yep!”  
Chara stared. “You're... a flower.”

Flowey gave a strained laugh.  
“Isn't it hilarious? Well, what can I say? Coming back from the dead has its price. But look at you! It's like nothing's changed since all of that stuff forever ago.”

Chara didn't respond in any way.  
“Come on!” Flowey teased. “What happened? How did you come back? You gotta tell me!”

Chara stared blankly, eyes empty, hands playing idly with the blade of that pocket knife.

Flowey started to get a little antsy. The road they were on was empty; nobody was around to hear him scream if things went south.  
“Come on, Chara, this isn't funny.”

Suddenly Chara looked up, eyes dark, as though remembering something.  
“Y o u b e t r a y e d m e.”

Flowey froze. 

Time seemed to come to a silent standstill.

Chara's fingertips danced along the surface of the blade.

“You backed out on our plan.”  
Flowey looked back and forth, evaluating potential escape routes.

“You snitched on me to Dad.”  
no no no no no no no 

Chara's dark eyes turned into black pits, wider than any human's eyes had any right to be.

Flowey felt very, very small.

“D I D Y O U T H I N K Y O U W E R E A B O V E C O N S E Q U E N C E S ? !”

On that final word, moving with superhuman speed, Chara appeared inches away from Flowey. 

Flowey saw the knife a sliver of a moment before it impaled his face, and burrowed away in a panic. Instead it nicked a few petals; Flowey winced but managed to keep moving.  
Chara stabbed at the place where Flowey had burrowed, but he was already a few feet away. Chara looked around, face stony and unreadable, looking for where Flowey had gone.

He had to get out of here. NOW.

If Flowey’d had a heart, it would have been pounding. Instead he felt a steady stream of dread course through him, but underneath that was a saving stream of adrenaline and DETERMINATION. Last time he'd just stood there while Chara had killed him, but not this time. 

This time he'd stand up for himself.

Flowey peppered Chara with a light spray of bullets while he tried to escape. It wouldn’t stop anyone, but at least it would be a good distraction while he ran away.

Suddenly, Chara flickered out of view in a burst of red light; the bullets passed through as though they had never existed at all.

“Huh?” Flowey said, looking for where Chara had gone. He had a bad feeling about this.

Suddenly Chara reappeared. 

A thrown knife came from nowhere and pinned Flowey to the ground.

Flowey screamed out.

Chara walked forward slowly but determinedly, a smile playing at the corner of their mouth.

“Looks like free EXP,” Chara said with a shrug, drawing back another knife...

Then the universe erupted into stars and commotion before turning black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...  
>  :O


	7. Coma

“Flowey? Are you here?...”  
“Come on, you have to be somewhere around here. That kid in the candy shop was going on and on about a talking flower, it has to be- holy crap FLOWEY!!!”

“...NO...”

\---

...

the universe was fuzzy

the universe was a fuzzy blotch of colors, and everything was too loud

raucous demonic laughter mixed with the tinkling of a music box and it wouldn't stop, wouldn't go away…

scattered in the cacophony were brief moments of lucidity

Frisk appearing, looking horror-struck, 

Chara walking away unimpeded.

A sudden crowd of people.

A lot of noise and light and PAIN, lots and lots of pain

flowey felt like his face was splitting in half

It hurt and it hurt and it felt so FAMILIAR and flowey didn't even want to think about that

a burst of healing magic from his mother's fingers

too little too late

...

Finally, unconsciousness came to bear away Flowey on its sweet wings, and only then did the pain disperse for the time being.

Flowey dreamed of the other timeline.

Events played themselves out in his mind, and Flowey recalled Chara's grim procession through the Underground in chilling detail, the memories sharp and clear for the first time. He remembered watching every murder take place in morbid glee, and how he had looked on in fascination as Chara had done the dirty work of emptying the Underground.

He'd been DELIGHTED at the course of events. He'd previously been alone, but now he wasn't alone anymore. Finally here was someone who understood- who was just as empty as Flowey was. 

In a universe pervaded by repetition and tedium, here was the one person who could break the monotony. It was more than he could have ever hoped for.

When they'd both been alive, Chara had sometimes spoken of a fervent desire to kill everything, usually accompanied by a burst of anger and followed soon thereafter by bad decisions. These episodes had always worried him a little, but he had trusted Chara implicitly, and probably to an unjustified extent. 

Regardless, Chara's penchant for killing was immediately recognizable post-mortem, and the familiarity of it all made him… happy. 

Yes. For a short period of time, before Chara had turned on him, he had been genuinely, unabashedly HAPPY. He'd imagined possibilities of the future. The two of them would go to the surface. He would fulfill his promise to kill those humans- he was strong enough to do so now. Maybe… everything would be okay, if it was just the two of them. All it took was the sheer _possibility_ of being able to live on the surface with Chara, and a spark of joy had kindled in his stony, empty heart. 

He was such an idiot.

When it came down to it, he was as big of a softie doormat as his dear father. He'd put aside reason and good judgment in pursuit of his childish dreams, and he'd paid the price for it. By the time he realized how dangerous Chara truly was, it was too late, and nothing could have stopped the ensuing cascade of events by then.

He'd failed to learn from his mistakes the first time, so he'd always been doomed to repeat them, hadn't he?

On the bright side, he wasn't really in a position to make mistakes anymore, was he? Was that for the better? Flowey didn't know. Flowey was too busy being comatose to do much of anything.

\---

“Mom, is Flowey gonna be okay?”  
“I do not know, my child. He is neither human nor monster. I am unsure how to gauge his well being.”  
“Has he… fallen down?”  
“...Perhaps. It is difficult to tell.”  
“I can't even see his face. It's like he's just a regular flower...”  
“Perhaps he is just sleeping. It might be best if we give him some space.”  
“...yeah. I hope he gets well soon.”  
“Only time will tell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :c
> 
> floweyy hang in there buddy it'll be ok i promise  
> ...won't it?


	8. Consciousness

It could have been an eternity later, or maybe it was just a few moments. But eventually, slowly and quietly, Flowey opened his eyes.

He was back in the living room.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the open blinds, casting striped shadows on the carpet. Solemn silence filled the house; had Toriel and Frisk left or something?

“Hello?” Flowey called out.  
But nobody came.  
Figures. 

His head pounded with a splitting headache. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle, at least. Nothing compared to getting jackhammered by a pair of Gaster Blasters, or… well,Chara with a knife. Flowey sighed and looked around.

He'd been rehoused in a new flowerpot. That made sense, since the other one had shattered at Grillby's. The new one was bigger and comfier, with ivory paint and illustrative teacups and vines coloring the base. Flowey chuckled- this had to be one of Asgore's flowerpots. Thanks, dad.

The roomier pot gave him a little extra energy to draw from, at least. Flowey was able to make a vine long enough to reach over and fully open the blinds. That was handy. He should have asked for a bigger pot ages ago.

Flowey was idly opening and shutting the blinds with a vine when Toriel brought Frisk home from school.

“Flowey?” Frisk cried out from the front door.  
“Hey Frisk,” Flowey said, voice unenthusiastic. He was kind of tired, but he at least faked a half-smile for Frisk's benefit.  
Frisk's squinty eyes widened in genuine love/concern or something. “Flowey! You're okay!”  
“Heh, it takes more than a silly old knife to keep ME down,” Flowey bluffed, giving a tired smirk.

Oh. Frisk was hugging his flower pot.

Huh.

“The entire time I kept thinking about what I was gonna say to you,” Frisk laughed, without letting go of the pot. “I was gonna be so mad that you ran off and stuff. But it's funny cause now you're back and I'm not even mad. I'm just … glad you're okay.”

Flowey stared blankly at the wall behind Frisk. He knew he should be feeling something right now- residual memories of emotion nagged at his mind like a half-forgotten dream. But even as he reached for those memories, they slipped through his proverbial fingertips and scattered like dust on the pavement. 

Nothing happened. Flowey hadn't expected that anything would.

“Did you know mom sent the entire Royal Guard looking for you?” Frisk said with a laugh.  
“Heh, I heard,” Flowey said with a bitter chuckle.  
“You should have seen her! She was so mad and so scared you were gonna start hurting people again. But instead you were the one who got hurt.”  
“Funny how that works out,” Flowey remarked flatly.

Now Frisk let go and stared at Flowey, eyes wide and earnest.

“Please. Please don't do that again,” Frisk pleaded.

Flowey stared back, squarely meeting Frisk's pleading gaze.  
“You know why I did it, right?”

Frisk frowned a bit. “To go after Chara?”

“Not just that!” Flowey cried out, raising his voice. “All I do here at the house is sit there and watch out that stupid window! There's only so long I can spend on a computer, Frisk, and besides that there's nothing to do, and I'm completely stuck here, and it's awful!”

Frisk looked taken aback. “I thought you were happy here…”

Flowey sighed. “I can't really be happy anymore without a SOUL, Frisk. But you know what's worse than being unhappy? Being BORED.”

Silence.

“It's the worst when you're at school,” Flowey continued, looking away. “Toriel doesn't come within ten feet of me unless she's giving me water, and there's nothing to do and nobody to talk to.”

Frisk listened thoughtfully. “I guess I never thought about what you did here at home when I went to school. Besides setting my bed on fire, I mean.”

Flowey huffed. “I told you, that was an accident!”

“Still don't believe you, but good try,” Frisk said with a smile. “But hey, I can leave you with some books or something in the future if you want. To help pass the time and whatnot.”

“Thanks,” Flowey mumbled as the anger drained from his voice. “Just nothing about snails! That's my only request.”

Frisk snorted. “What else am I supposed to do with mom’s old books? Someone's gotta read them!”

“I promise I will set them on fire,” Flowey warned. “And I won't even act sorry about it.”

Frisk was barely holding back fits of laughter. “I oughta call your bluff right now! No way you'd burn up perfectly good reading material!”

“FRISK!” Flowey shouted as Frisk ran down the hallway. 

Frisk quickly returned with a tall stack of snail-related books. A small-scale scuffle soon broke out.

Scary faces were made.  
Tomes were wielded as weapons.  
Vines were brandished.  
Books were used as projectiles.  
Fifteen minutes later and they were both buried in piles of fallen snail books.

“Did you know...that land snails have two sets of tentacles?” Frisk said between bouts of laughter from beneath a dozen open books.  
“FRISK GET THIS RIDICULOUS HEAP OF GARBAGE OFF OF ME” Flowey screeched from beneath a particularly heavy book, vainly pushing at it with a pair of vines.  
“The top set of tentacles… holds the eyes… but do you wanna hear… what the bottom set holds?” Frisk couldn't keep from laughing uncontrollably at the end of the question.  
“Frisk, if you are making flirty eyes at me right now, I am never speaking to you again!” Flowey threatened, voice muffled from beneath the book.  
“No silly!” Frisk laughed, voice thin and out of breath. “It holds their nose! Snails have tentacles that hold up their NOSES!”

Flowey finally got leverage on the crushing book and launched it into the air. It hit Frisk in the shoulder, which only made Frisk laugh even harder.

Toriel, of course, chose this exact moment to pass through the living room.

“What in HEAVEN'S name is going on here?!”

“...Frisk started it!”

\---

After Frisk cleaned up the books, Toriel made dinner as normal. What wasn't normal was Frisk bringing Flowey's pot to the dinner table.

“But what's the point?” Flowey asked. “It's not like I can really, you know, eat.”

“Dinner time is family bonding time, and you are a part of this family too,” Frisk said stubbornly. Toriel made skeptical faces from behind Frisk.

“Very well,” she said, voice laced with suspicion as she stared down Flowey, “but you will be on your best behavior, or dinner privileges will be revoked. Understood?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Flowey said dismissively. He'd already been pushed to the limits of his lifespan once already and wasn't gearing to try his luck with a second.

Toriel turned on the radio, letting it play quietly during the meal. Dinner was some kind of human food called a casserole. It had layers of noodles and cheese and vegetables, and looked like it might actually taste half decent- for human food, at least. Frisk got Flowey a glass of water with a yellow straw, something he could actually consume.

“I also have a treat for us,” Toriel said to Frisk excitedly partway through the meal. “Cinnamon bunnies from that darling bunny shopkeeper.” 

After Toriel learned about all the terrible things that human desserts did to people, she decided that all sweet treats in the house would be monster food only. Frisk had no problem with this.

Flowey pretended he hadn't heard them, but he was secretly prepared to kill for a cinnamon bunny. He hadn't had monster food in forever, and even just one bite sounded wonderful. He couldn't eat much more than that anyway. Maybe he'd get a sympathy bunny for being almost killed? Flowey couldn't see Toriel being sympathetic to the self-inflicted trouble he'd gotten into, though. He sighed.

“But you have to finish your vegetables first,” Toriel reminded, eyeing the accumulated pile of untouched veggies on Frisk's plate. Frisk pouted; human veggies were clearly not a popular dish, even though Flowey knew that Frisk was fine with monster ones, like Vegetoid's back in the Ruins. He laughed.

“Hey,” Frisk called out, “Flowey doesn't have to eat vegetables! Why should I?”  
“Because I'm already a plant! That would be CANNIBALISM!” Flowey retorted, battering away Frisk's approaching, vegetable-laden fork with a vine.  
“There will be no fighting at the table,” Toriel said sternly. Frisk giggled and went back to eating. 

In the fray, Frisk had accidentally (pffft yeah right) dumped a small pile of mixed veggies into Flowey's pot. Flowey took to pelting Frisk with them whenever Toriel's back was turned. Frisk responded in kind.

Suddenly the radio blared to life.

“Hello, darling listeners! Sorry to interrupt your easy listening. This is Mettaton, back from my first nation-wide tour to bring you some breaking news. It's not very happy news, I'm afraid. Five more monsters and eight humans have been killed near the center of town in just the last half hour. Those of us at the station urge you to stay in your homes while authorities investigate. More updates on this story as they become available.”

Frisk's face went blank. Toriel closed her eyes.

“Huh? What's going on?” Flowey asked.

“You were out for a few days,” Frisk said sadly. “The killer's started going after humans now, too.”

Oh.

“People keep finding bodies and dust in the center of town every day at sundown,” Frisk continued, staring at the table. “They’re all scattered in the flowerbed there. It's kind of scaring everyone.”

Flowey's eyes went wide as memories came to life in his mind. 

Him and Chara pacing through the center of town in the evening light. Chara taking over and gently putting down their body in the fancy, carefully landscaped flower bed. Chara had talked constantly about those golden flowers back home; it seemed as fitting of a final resting place as any.

Then the first human had showed up.

In the end, he couldn't blame the human for attacking. Chara's soul had made him powerful, but he also looked pretty terrifying, with flowing robes, arched horns, and formidable magic like he would have later when he fought Frisk with all those souls. He didn't glow with rainbows then, though- instead he gave off a pulsating red light from Chara's soul. Maybe that was scarier.

Regardless, the human had looked terrified, and had lashed out with something Chara called a “pitchfork.” It was supposed to be used for farming, but here it was used for violence instead.

He remembered crying out from pain and freezing up. He didn't know what to do.

In the back of his mind, Chara had gone wide-eyed with panic.  
“We have to do something!” Chara had shouted in his mind. “Let me take over! Let me handle this!”

Another wounding blow. He had crushed his eyes shut.

“No!” He'd thought to Chara. “You’ll kill the human! I.. I can't do it!”

He could feel Chara's murderous impulses in his mind like a headache, sharp and pulsating.  
“We have to!” Chara had cried out in desperation. “This is why we came here, remember?”

A few other humans had joined in, delivering blow after crippling blow.

“Asriel, it's kill or BE killed! YOU PROMISED!” Chara had screamed in a fever pitch, trying to wrestle control from him. 

Maybe it was cold feet, or maybe it was sudden sympathy for the humans, but he couldn't. He couldn't do it. He was paralyzed by inaction, and not even Chara could break his stranglehold on his own senses.

Chara had REALLY wanted to kill those humans, and had always hated humanity, but had never talked about why. But in that moment, he'd been able to catch just a taste of Chara's memories. He didn't see much, but the underlying emotions- fear, grief, pain, anger- were more than clear. These humans had hurt Chara in some way, which was what drove Chara to Mt. Ebott in the first place. And for all of Chara's occasional cold brooding back in the Underground, it didn't take much to draw those powerful emotions to the surface in fits of anger and violence. 

Chara wanted to hurt these humans because these humans had hurt Chara.

He realized in that moment that this had been a revenge quest from the start, and probably a bad idea as well. Deeply wounded now, he decided that it was time to go home.

“ENOUGH!” He had shouted, lashing out with a bright, terrifying, but decidedly non-lethal burst of fire magic. The humans got spooked and ran for cover, giving him the time to grab Chara's body from the flower bed.

It had all happened so fast. He'd thought he was ready, and that he could handle taking out a few humans- they just had to get six, right? But he still hadn't been able to bring himself to do it.

He'd messed up everything. Chara's sacrifice, mom and dad's grief... all of it would be for nothing because he couldn't do that simple little thing. And those humans had dealt some serious blows, more than he had realized, and he was hurt worse than he thought.

It soon became clear to both of them that they weren't going to survive the trip home.

“You IDIOT…” Chara had sobbed in his mind. “What have you DONE? This wasn't how this was supposed to go. Now you're going to die too!”

He'd nodded sadly in response. It was too late now.

That spot in town square would be forever etched into his mind- the cobblestone pavement, the golden flowers, the way the amber sunset tinged the wooden buildings. The expressions of anger and fear on the humans as they reacted to what must have seemed to them very threatening. And the sky above, bigger than he had ever imagined, watching over from above.

He had been glad he got to see it before he…well...

Flowey shook his head, and the memories dissipated. 

If bodies and dust were being found in that town square, then that must mean Chara went back there. These murders were a sign that Chara hadn't forgotten.

It was unmistakable. Chara was calling for him.

“Flowey, are you okay?” Frisk said, jarring him back to reality. “I'm sorry. You probably don't want to hear about that right now. We should turn the radio off.”

“It's fine,” Flowey said dully. “I'd rather know than not know.”

Toriel pursed her lips. “I should mention. We do not need to do it right now, but when you get your strength back, we would like to ask you some questions. Frisk says you met the murderer and may have information.”

The first thing that came to Flowey's mind was a bad word, which he wisely refrained from saying. What he said instead was a noncommittal grunt.

“I will ask you about it tomorrow, but I wanted to give you warning,” Toriel said gently. “Frisk, please help me clean up after supper.”

“K. I'm going to take Flowey back to my room.”

That… sounded nice. Not being around people for a while sounded nice.

\---

“Frisk, you made such a terrible mess before and during dinner. What has gotten into you?”  
“I dunno. I guess I was just trying to understand.”  
“Understand what?”  
“Flowey. He says he can't be happy, but I guess I don't believe it. I thought maybe having some fun might help him remember how.”  
“I suppose I understand. It has been a long time since I raised two children at once, but I remember Chara and Asriel would often tease and play like that. Just do not do it again, please.”

“Can I ask… What were they like?”

“...”  
“...Chara was a spirited, determined child, like yourself. Chara was prone to passionate outbursts and occasionally impulsivity, but also felt strongly and deeply about things that were important to them. Chara could also be very calm and level-headed, and polite to a fault. They loved chocolate and drawing.

“Asriel was outgoing and gentle. Like his father, he loved to go out and talk with people; he was filled with love for all living things. Asriel had a vivid imagination and lots of energy, and loved playing and making home videos. He was meek and unassuming, and often let Chara decide when he could not, which often got them both into trouble. But they were both good children. 

“Sometimes… Sometimes I miss them terribly.”

“I would have liked to have met them.”

“Indeed. I think you would have gotten along well with them.”

\---

A while later, Flowey noticed that Frisk had left a small chunk of Cinnamon bunny in his pot. 

He nibbled at it. It tasted sweet and warm. 

Flowey couldn't clearly remember what love felt like anymore, but maybe it was like a cinnamon bunny for the heart- sweet, warm, comforting. Maybe that could be his own personal headcanon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is love  
> flowey don't hurt me  
> don't hurt me  
> no more


	9. Coins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaa this fic broke 1000 hits  
> i love all of you <3

Soon Flowey was back to his same old spot in Frisk's room. Same curtains, desk, and ivory walls. The comforter on Frisk's bed was new. Heh.

And there, just a few feet away, was Frisk's computer. It was too far away for Flowey to reach normally, but he had vines now, and he scooted it closer to him. He had a mission to accomplish.

A few minutes later, it booted up, and he put in the password. (‘DETERMINATION,’ spelled in all caps. As long as he didn't do anything stupid, Frisk was fine with Flowey using the computer, and Flowey would never intentionally jeopardize his computer privileges.)

Then Flowey started doing research.  
“Mt. Ebott,” he typed with a few friendliness bullets, navigating the mouse with a vine. Hundreds of results came up.

“Mt. Ebott is a mountain on the coast in Western…”  
Boring.

“Mt. Ebott is a popular tourist trap destination, known for the pop legend that says anyone who visits will not return…”  
Yup, knew that already.

“Mt. Ebott is a famous folk lore site, known around the world for its detailed mythology…”  
Monster mythology, perhaps? Flowey stuck out his tongue.

“Mt. Ebott is known for being the mountain that hikers never return from, but this wasn't the case until a series of earthquakes revealed entrances to an elaborate system of caves and perilous sinkholes within the mountain. Where most mountains are lethal for their size or height, Mt. Ebott is famous for being a place where hikers get lost and don't come back…”  
Interesting, but not what he was looking for.

Flowey gritted his teeth.  
“List of people who went missing on Mt. Ebott”

The list he got back had hundreds of humans on it. Turns out most of them were actually found at some point, usually dead in a sinkhole of starvation or thirst. Occasionally people went missing and were never found. This list had a few dozen names.

Flowey read through that list. Most were names he did not recognize. Half a dozen were names that seemed vaguely familiar for a long moment, until Flowey realized they were the names of the souls that Asgore had slaughtered, and whom Flowey had briefly absorbed. Awkward.

As Flowey scrolled down, the names got older and older, until he reached the first name: Chara’s name, followed by a weird human surname.

Bingo.

After that, he found newspaper articles. One on the earthquake that had opened the sinkholes in Mt. Ebott, and another on the popular tours that were offered in the following months at the base of the mountain.

Until suddenly those tours stopped.

Many rock climbers, drawn to the challenge of the mountain, scaled and descended the mountain. Some of them disappeared, too.

Eventually the spot became less and less popular as people became scared of the frequent disappearances. Officials posted signage and warnings telling people to stay away. Rowdy kids would still sometimes go up on dares, though. After a few too many such disappearances, officials put up a sturdy fence at the path’s entrance, and then the disappearances largely stopped.

Flowey snickered. That fence obviously hadn’t been something a DETERMINED child couldn't handle. Nice, Frisk.

But it all made sense now. The sinkholes in the Ruins, the huge gap of time between Frisk's entrance to the Ruins and the humans before, the cave system that ran throughout the mountain, the ancient monster glyphs claiming that it was impossible for humans to enter.

Then he found what he was looking for: an article about a child who disappeared after being last seen in the mountains, right before the tours stopped. Search and rescue workers were sent out. Some of them disappeared, too.

The missing child was last seen wearing a green and yellow striped sweater, with chin-length brown hair. It was totally Chara.

Flowey found that he needed to do research on humans’ policies towards missing children. Such phenomenons were rare in the Underground, where there simply wasn't enough space for a monster child to go missing for long. But human children would sometimes go missing, sometimes from running away, sometimes for other, unhappier reasons.

Flowey knew that Chara had tripped into the Underground. But something had led Chara up the mountain in the first place...

After several hours of Flowey searching, Frisk had to use the computer for homework. But Flowey felt like he might be one step closer to understanding this whole mess. And maybe that was one step closer to finding a way to help… or at least a way to stop Chara.

\---

The next morning, Frisk had to leave for school, and Flowey was prepared to spend the entire day searching if need be. But a knock on the front door changed that.

“Hello?” Toriel said kindly but confusedly. Flowey looked through Frisk's open door to see what was going on.  
“Hello! It is I, the Great Papyrus! Frisk mentioned that Flowey was feeling better, so I am here to visit!”

Toriel got a completely baffled expression on her face, but she nevertheless opened the door so Papyrus could visit. 

Flowey was still sitting on Frisk's desk, but he could hear the skeleton's bounding stride as he marched through the hall. The sound brought out the worst in his splitting headache, but at least the pain had gone down since the day before.

“Hello, Flowey!” Papyrus said with a huge grin, and what appeared to be genuine delight at Flowey's well being. “I am very much glad to see that you are alright! You made me worried there for a while!”  
“Heh. Sorry,” Flowey replied.  
“You should be more careful!” Papyrus recommended. “But you are okay now, and that is what matters most!”  
Flowey gave a half-smile.

“Anyway, I know you probably got to see a lot of the town when you got out,” Papyrus said with a squint, “but I also know you are still trapped in that pot now, and I am a skeleton of my word!” He grinned. “Do you want to go on a fun adventure to town today?”

Flowey blinked several times. He had figured that offer was off the table after everything that had gone down. This was a delightful surprise.  
“Well, why not?” Flowey said, putting on a saccharine smile. 

Papyrus carried Flowey out to his car; Toriel scowled, but did not intervene beyond warning Papyrus that he would regret his life choices if he dropped Flowey's pot. Papyrus laughed and assured her this would not happen. Probably for the best; Flowey's head still hurt from last time.

Flowey's larger pot was a little bulkier and heavier now, but Papyrus seemed to have no difficulty carrying it to his car. He clicked it in the front seat with a grin and hopped to the driver’s side of the car.

“Where are we going?” Flowey asked.  
“It is a surprise!” Papyrus answered, pulling out of the driveway. Toriel's house disappeared into the back window as Papyrus drove.

“I will say this much, though: Frisk said you would probably like it! Nyeh heh heh!”

Oh dear golly goodness, what had Frisk roped Flowey into this time…

Suddenly Papyrus's eyes bugged out of their sockets; he began yelling at a driver who failed to use a turn signal when changing lanes. Flowey laughed a little and stared out the window.

The car passed by dozens, maybe even hundreds of houses: quiet little cottages, duplexes, apartments, and even some larger residences. They were filled with trees, with well-manicured lawns and cheerful white fences like Toriel's. Flowey recognized one neighborhood from when he had followed the police car, but the rest were unfamiliar.

“Flowey, what makes you happy?” Papyrus asked lightly, trying to make conversation by the look of it.

Ugh. That was a question Flowey didn't feel like dealing with. He deflected the topic.

“Golly! That's a tough one. What makes YOU happy, Papyrus?”  
“That is easy! Spaghetti and puzzles and cars and books and my brother and…”  
Papyrus had an entire list, which he rattled off without pausing for breath. Flowey chuckled.

“Wait a second!” Papyrus cried out, eyes squinting in suspicion. “You didn't answer the question!”  
Flowey stared bitterly out the window.

“Papyrus, can I tell you a teensy secret?” he asked, voice devoid of the usual exaggerated cheer he put on when speaking to Papyrus.  
“Of course!” Papyrus answered without hesitation.

“I don't have a SOUL,” Flowey muttered, still staring out the window. “I can't love people or really even be happy.”

Papyrus was silent for a long moment. Flowey looked over; Papyrus was staring at the road with an expression of deep sadness.

“That… that sounds like a very sad and lonely way to live,” Papyrus finally managed.  
Flowey didn't respond, or even react in any discernible way.

“But nevertheless, I, the Great Papyrus will still be your friend! They say that monster souls are fueled by love and compassion, but there must be SOMETHING that can make you happy!”

Once upon a time, Flowey would have immediately thought of Chara, but those memories had turned to sour milk in his mind, old and stale and disgusting. His face scrunched up.

“What about spaghetti, Flowey? Does spaghetti make you happy?”  
“I can't eat spaghetti, wise guy,” Flowey muttered, growing irritated.

Papyrus gasped.  
“Oh, come on! I'm a flower, for crying out loud!” Flowey exclaimed. “How many flowers have YOU seen eat spaghetti? What did you expect?!”

“You truly do live a cursed life,” Papyrus said dramatically.  
Flowey would have pegged his exaggerated theatrics as sarcasm, but he wasn't sure Papyrus even knew what sarcasm was.

“Well, since you're a flower, you must like… um… Sunlight! Does sunshine make you happy, Flowey?”

“The sun is okay,” Flowey said, giving a sort of shrug. “I wouldn't say it makes me HAPPY, but at least it doesn't make me UN-happy…”

“Well, that's a start!” Papyrus said with a toothy grin. “What are some other things that don't make you unhappy?”  
“Killing,” Flowey said without thinking.

Papyrus's eyes went wide. “Flowey!!”  
Flowey cringed. Oops.

“This is why Sans told me to stay away from you! He said you were dangerous,” Papyrus said seriously. “But I believe anyone can be a good person if they try. Including you! We just need to find a way for you to be happy, so you can focus on that instead of hurting people!”

Huh. Papyrus making sense- how about that. Had Papyrus grown another brain cell? Maybe he finally had two that he could rub together now. Either that, or Chara had done more of a number of Flowey's head than he'd realized, if he was starting to see things from Papyrus's view, of all people.

It was a good effort, at least. But it wouldn't be enough. Of that much, Flowey was reasonably sure.

Then Papyrus pulled into the parking lot of a strange building.  
“Well, maybe this will do it!” Papyrus said with a goofy grin. “Frisk said you liked video games, so we're here at the arcade.”

Flowey stared at the building. Short and old, it had weathered bricks and dusty windows; neon lights spelled out a human name, followed by the words “Pizza and Arcade.”

Eh. It was worth a shot.

Papyrus carried Flowey's pot into the arcade. The inside was a cacophony of neon colors in dark purple light; a hideous multicolor pattern decorated the carpet. But the beeps and tunes coming from the machines told Flowey this might not be such a bad place. Several dozen arcade cabinets filled the floor in neat lines, with some generic carnival games along the back wall.

“Pick any game you like!” Papyrus said happily. “I recommend one of the puzzle ones. Ooh, this one has a skeleton on it!”

Flowey looked around dismissively. Boring, boring, boring…

Ooh.

“Hey Papyrus, I pick that one,” Flowey said, pointing to a machine.  
“Excellent choice! I'll set you up on a bar stool so you can see the screen. Call me over when you want to change games. Oh, and here's some money so you can keep playing!”

And with that, Flowey put in a coin and started a round of Galaga.

The game layout was easy; one vine on the joystick and one on the FIRE button and he was golden. (Figuratively speaking, heh.). The controls were a little wonky, but once he got the hang of it, the game was a simple act of dodging and firing. It was a lot like fighting back in the Underground, something he'd done hundreds, maybe even thousands of times.

Papyrus hopped from game to game, quickly depleting his store of coins. Eventually he came by to check on Flowey.

“How are you do- OH WOWIE,” Papyrus yelped, his eyes bugging out of his skull. “How are you getting such a high score?”  
Flowey gave an unknowledgeable grunt while dodging spaceships. This was a piece of cake.

“How many quarters have you used?”  
“This is my second one,” Flowey replied while shooting down a few free-flying spaceships. “Yes!!” He cheered as they went down.

Papyrus watched the screen, mesmerized by Flowey's playing. Soon a few bystanders came by to watch.

“...dang. Didn't know flowers could play arcade games.”  
“Dude, have you ever seen monsters play third-person shooters? They're all some kind of expert or something.’  
“Wonder why that is?”

“Oh! That's easy,” Papyrus said brightly, turning to the two speakers while Flowey played. “Monsters can make magical bullets. Flowey has spent a lot of time practicing his, so that must be why he's so good at this game!”

“Oh wow, you're a monster! That's pretty rad.”  
“...dude. You gotta show us.”  
“Alright! Let us have a practice battle, then!” Papyrus said excitedly.

Flowey heard the tell-tale sounds of a battle beginning, including the two humans making surprised noises when their souls entered the battlefield. They cast orange and yellow light on the screen; Flowey grunted and leaned forward, focusing on dodging a round of Galaga bullets.

“What the…!” a human shouted from behind him.  
“Dude we are so boned!” the other one cried out.  
“Shut up!”

Papyrus laughed. It sounded like the humans took a few light hits from sheer surprise, but the yellow one had managed to take out a few of Papyrus's bone attacks.

“Impressive!” Papyrus said. Then he audibly winked, saying, “But are you ready for my special attack?”

The humans hesitated.  
“Bring it on,” one of them finally said, sounding determined.

“Alright!” Papyrus said, cracking his knuckles. “You're blue now!”

“Dude!”  
“This is so jacked up.”  
“This is kind of fun!”

Flowey turned around to observe the battle. This was more entertaining than the arcade game for the time being.

Papyrus stood across from two humans, who wore awestruck expressions on their faces. Papyrus was using some bone attacks of moderate difficulty, but the humans had no problems keeping up. They dodged quickly and accurately, and Papyrus started to escalate the difficulty of his attacks. The humans took a few blows, nothing life threatening, and went on like this for several minutes.

Finally Papyrus ended his attack with a flourish.

“That was very fun!” he said, grinning like a goofball.  
The humans seemed a little out of breath, but they readily agreed.  
“Oh hey dude, you made the high score!” one of them said to Flowey. “Go on and put your initials.”

Flowey stared at the screen for a moment. Eventually, he slowly put in his initials- FAD, for Flowey Asriel Dreemur. 

“Nice, dude. Sweet initials. What's it stand for?”

“Nothing,” Flowey lied. “My name only has one initial so I picked two other random letters.”

“Can't argue with that,” the human said, shrugging. “Hey, house rule is if you get a high score, you get a free slice of pizza. Should go talk to whoever's running the register right now.”

Flowey started to inform the human that he couldn't eat pizza, but didn't bother finishing his sentence.  
“Fine,” he said. “Maybe they have monster food here, at least.”

At the counter, a human made good on the deal and brought out a slice of pizza.  
“Hey, you don't have monster food, do you? I can't eat human food,” Flowey asked.  
“Fraid not,” the human replied with a shrug. “More and more places are starting to, though. It's like this new fad. I can get you a sticker or somethin' if you want, though.”

“...Okay,” Flowey said. 

The human pulled out a sticker with a spaceship on it.  
"Just right there on my pot," Flowey said, pointing to a spot with a vine.  
"There ya go!" the human said brightly. "Do you still want the pizza?"

Flowey considered. “Papyrus, you can have it.”  
Papyrus beamed.

“We'll probably start offering monster food one of these days, though,” the human said with a smile. “You should come check again some other time.”

“Thank you!” Papyrus said, taking the pizza. “And we most definitely will!”

Flowey smiled a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is no such thing as a filler chapter in TROTP. that said, this was a fun and fluffy chapter compared to some of the previous ones. it's still important, though. ;)
> 
> (also i may be dealing with some other commitments in the near future; I will try to update soon, but if the turnaround time is longer than the usual 4 days for this next update, that's why. 
> 
> i'll be back. it just might be longer than 4 days is all. just a heads up)


	10. Conference

Flowey got back from the arcade that afternoon. Papyrus returned Flowey to his windowsill in the living room and went home after waving at Frisk. The door shut with a click.

“Did you have fun?” Frisk said to Flowey from the couch, putting down a book.

“It was okay. Amusing, at least,” Flowey answered. “I got a high score on a machine. It was fun to be somewhere that actually rewards violence for once.”

Frisk laughed. Not a chuckle, either, but a deep belly laugh- the kind where you have to cover your mouth while doing it.

“What's so funny?!” Flowey protested.  
“I knew it! I knew you'd like human video games!” Frisk grinned.  
“So?!” Flowey said in an accusing voice. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No, not at all!” Frisk said, winding down from the laughing fit. “I just think it's funny is all.”  
“Oh gee, that explains everything!” Flowey said sarcastically. “Thanks for telling me that obscure fact! I never would have figured out you thought it was FUNNY otherwise!”  
“I'm just glad you found your… your niche, I guess,” Frisk said. “A place where you can be as violent as your little heart desires without actually hurting anyone. It's perfect! I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier.”

Flowey grunted in response.

“Oh, something else,” Frisk said seriously.  
“Yeah?”  
Frisk’s hand idly shuffled pages of the book. “We're going over to Asgore's place later.”  
Flowey frowned in confusion. “What? Why?”  
Frisk's lips pursed. “Cause we gotta talk about what happened when you got loose.”

Oh.

Frisk cringed. “I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to do. Especially because… well, you know,” Frisk said, eyeing the kitchen. Toriel must be in there, possibly listening. Good to know.

“But that doesn't change the fact that people really need your help,” Frisk pleaded. “I hope you'll be cooperative. Please.”

Flowey stared bitterly at the carpet, avoiding Frisks’s gaze.  
“No promises,” he said. “But… I'll at least try.”

Frisk smiled. “That's all we ask.”  
Then Frisk carried Flowey back to the bedroom, out of Toriel's earshot.

“Listen,” Frisk whispered. “I know this is kind of a tough thing for you. I saw who it was when I found you. And I'll be there the whole time if things go south, okay?”

Flowey didn't respond.

“Just tell them everything you're okay sharing.”  
Flowey nodded. He wasn't looking forward to this.

\---

Frisk and Toriel ate an early dinner a half hour later. The meal was quiet and uneventful, and the surrounding cloud of gloom quickly snuffed out any attempts at levity.

“Sans and Papyrus have offered to drive us over,” Toriel told Frisk and Flowey after dinner. “Please be ready to leave in five minutes.”

“Ready,” Flowey said.  
Frisk giggled a bit.  
“Go put on your shoes, my child,” Toriel said to Frisk with a shoo-ing motion. Frisk ran off.

Just Toriel and Flowey now.

Awkward silence.

“We appreciate any help you can give us in locating the murderer,” Toriel said in a quiet, mournful voice.

Flowey stared at the carpet. It would be nice if Toriel ever considered talking to him when something wasn't horribly wrong, but alas.

Toriel looked like she was going to say something else, but bit back the words before she said them. Instead she sighed and went to turn off the lights.

A few minutes later, the three of them left.

Frisk had a little trouble carrying Flowey's heavier pot, but was determined to do so without help, despite Toriel's repeated offers of assistance. Frisk shifted the pot around several times before finding a comfortable carrying position, with one arm curled under the lip of the pot and the other supporting the base. Toriel raised a skeptical eyebrow. Frisk grinned.

A few minutes later, two skeleton brothers emerged from their house next door. An enthusiastic Papyrus pulled a decidedly unenthusiastic Sans out the door. 

Sans glanced at Flowey, and Flowey's face fell. HIM again.

“Alright, let us all be off!” Papyrus said, ushering everybody into the car. Sans took the front seat, and Frisk clambered into the back seat next to Toriel, carrying Flowey closely.

Asgore's house was an ivory cottage on the grounds of Toriel's new school, which had recently finished construction and would be opening in the fall. It was an easy five minute drive away from Toriel's (but a steep 15 minute walk uphill), which made it easy for the king and queen to meet to discuss diplomacy and other pressing issues, but not so close that Toriel had to see her ex-husband extraordinarily often in passing. Which was exactly how she liked it.

Papyrus parked the car in the driveway, and the group walked through the meticulously landscaped front lawn to the fancy front entry.

Toriel knocked on the large carved knocker, which was decorated with wooden vines and flowers. Heavy footsteps could be heard from inside, and soon the door opened.

“Howdy!” Asgore greeted, dressed in his cape and armor. These days he tended more towards sweaters and floral print shirts, so this must be something of a formal occasion, Flowey realized. “Do come in.”

The interior of Asgore's house could have been the spitting image of Toriel's; it had the same floorplan and size, but without the basement. It had a similarly large front parlor, decorated with crown molding and a large fireplace, but with more couches and chairs set out available for guests. Gerson had always said that Toriel was the brains behind the throne, but Asgore was definitely the more sociable and popular of the two, and entertained more guests, by the look of it. For all of their differences, they really did make up for each other's shortcomings in that way.

Frisk sat down in a fancy chair in the corner of the room, holding Flowey on their lap. The seat had end tables on either side that were covered in golden flowers, potted in large vases that matched Flowey's own. Similar end tables filled the room with flowers and gave the ivory decor a spattering of color. But for all of Asgore's homey decorations, the front room felt gloomy and imposing. Or maybe that was just the lingering cloud of worry that had descended on the people in the room. Those that still had souls, anyway.

But despite the significant differences, Asgore’s residence looked a lot like home back in the Underground. Flowey stiffened and pushed those memories aside.

“Water's boiling, Asgore!” a rough voice called from the kitchen.  
“Thank you, Undyne,” Asgore said as he shut the front door. “Would you be so kind as to bring it out for us all? I will go get the tea bags.”

Undyne appeared soon after, focusing on the fragile tray of teacups in her arms as though she could will it not to break with sheer DETERMINATION. She set the tray on a small coffee table in the parlor and started pouring some hot water.

Asgore went around the room asking everyone what type of tea they would like. (Chamomile for Sans, Golden Flower for Frisk and Toriel, orange soda for Papyrus, etc.)

“Howdy, friend,” Asgore said when he reached Flowey. “I so much want to offer you Golden Flower tea, but I suspect this would be in bad taste.”

Flowey stared blankly at Asgore. Why. Why had he agreed to this.

Asgore laughed. “Very well. Perhaps a regular old cup of water, then?”  
“That's fine,” Flowey mumbled.

Asgore cheerfully poured a final cup of water for Flowey.  
“Oh, I wanted to ask,” Asgore said conversationally. “How is that pot treating you?”

Flowey blinked in surprise. “It's really nice, actually. A lot less cramped than my old one.”  
Asgore smiled warmly. “I am glad to hear that. The other one was too small for a plant your size. I am glad to see that you have made yourself at home in this one. I like the sticker.”

“Huh? Oh, that,” Flowey said, looking at the arcade sticker. “I got that from playing a video game.”  
“Video game?” Asgore said, a little confused. “Is that like an anime?”

Flowey laughed.

“I'm sure there will be plenty of time to talk about video games and anime after the meeting,” Toriel said sternly. “But for now we should get started.”

Asgore nodded. “You are right.”

Flowey looked around the room. Along the wall to the right was a fancy couch, which seated Papyrus, Sans, and then Toriel next to Frisk and Flowey. The left wall held the fireplace, and in the corner was a large chair, which seated Asgore. A few feet away, Undyne straddled a barstool from the kitchen despite the entire empty couch nearby.

Asgore bowed his head, putting on his King face instead of his kindly old goofball one.

“You all know why we are gathered here today,” he said in a booming voice. “We must discuss the common threat to monster and humankind which has plagued us these past several days.”

Toriel nodded solemnly. Undyne bared her teeth a little.

“To start, what do we know of the killings?” He asked the group.

Frisk shrugged. “They started a few days ago when some monsters were found dead in the streets. A day later, humans were being killed, too.”

Sans closed his eyes. “The morning before the killing started, something triggered a temporal alarm of some sort. So the killer, it’s possible they came by time travel. We went to investigate, but didn't find much except an overturned grave back in the Underground. Then suddenly folks start showing up dead.”

A solemn silence.

“See, Frisk has this idea that...uh… you know what, never mind that. Point is I've been keeping an eye on timelines and stuff since then. If the killer really got here by time travel, they haven't reset once.”

Sans opened his eyes, which went dark. “Which means things are going right as planned for them.”

Toriel nodded sadly. “Flowey can you tell me what happened when Frisk found you?”

Flowey sighed. This question was going to come eventually. At least he'd had a little time to prepare an answer.

“After I got loose from the pot, I left the city and came back here,” he said. “I was exploring the town after that and looking around when I saw a human. I was just kind of sitting there and the human started slashing at me with a knife. I ran off and tried to defend myself, throw some bullets, but… oh who am I kidding, this sounds crazy…”

“Go on,” Toriel said gently.

Flowey exhaled sharply. “Then the human just disappeared! There was a burst of red light and they just disappeared! Then a knife came out of nowhere, pinned me to the ground, and I blacked out.”

All of that was technically true, but he had left out the incriminating bits where Chara had spoken.

“And you do not know why you were attacked?” Asgore pressed.

The answer to that question was revenge, plain and simple. Chara wanted to punish him for not following through on his end of that deal from so long ago. This was an unacceptable answer to give Asgore at this juncture.  
“No,” Flowey lied.

“Frisk, that sounds like what you said happened, right?” Undyne pointed out. Frisk nodded. Phew.

“Okay, so what did the killer look like?” Undyne continued.

Frisk's face scrunched up. “I didn't get a very good look. They looked to be my height, but they ran away when they saw me coming. Could’ve been wearing green.”

Flowey stared blankly at the wall. This was an easy one.  
“A human,” he muttered, “about Frisk's size. Same brown hair, chin length. Pale skin. Wore a green and yellow striped sweater. Had a golden locket. Wielded a knife.”

A shocked silence.

Toriel and Asgore exchanged the same wide-eyed look of panic. But underneath that panic… could it be hope?  
“Everything okay here?” Sans said, sounding concerned. Papyrus sipped nervously at his soda.

Toriel gave a sad laugh. “It is nothing,” she said, her eyes closed. “That description… it sounds so very much like a child I cared for, a long long time ago.”

“...I’m guessing it was the same one whose grave was turned up?” Sans said darkly.

Toriel's eyes went very wide. She hadn't made the connection. Or if she had, she had tried very hard not to pay it any heed.

Asgore's expression went very dark. “If someone has used the image of our dead child to commit these grievous crimes…” In that moment he seemed very old and tired.

Undyne punched the wall behind her. “Well, we can get people on the case. Get the human and monster forces on this. The other victims were killed by knife wounds, and it looks like we've got our perp. And justice just got PERSONAL.”

Frisk thought of something. “It looked like the killer had a big bag of candy, and I found Flowey just down the street from a candy store. Maybe… maybe you should put some people there? In case they come back.”

Undyne nodded.  
“The chocolate shop…” Toriel whispered, covering her face with her hands.  
“Chara… always did love chocolate,” Asgore said slowly. “This is either an especially cruel prank or something impossible.”

Sans shook his head. “Not impossible.”

Every head turned to look at Sans.

“See, this is why I didn't want to tell you guys. You can't just go up to the king and queen and tell them that their dead kid is back to life and killing people.”  
“You knew?” Toriel whispered, her voice a thin creak.  
“Frisk came to me with some suspicions. I wasn't gonna say anything until I got evidence. Didn't want to put you through that,” Sans said with a sigh.

Now Toriel faced Frisk, and alarm bells started going off in Flowey's head.

“Child, what do you know?”  
Frisk's eyes got wide. “It wasn't what I knew, it was what Flowey knew…”

Flowey cringed inwardly. This was more than he'd bargained on telling.

Toriel's face grew very cold.  
“Flowey, it would seem you have not been entirely honest.”

Crap crap crap crap  
Flowey was keenly aware that he was on thin ice here. He chose his next words carefully.

“What do you mean? I've told you everything you've wanted to know!” he said, trying to sound irritated at being accused, instead of fearful.

“Let me try this again,” Toriel said darkly. She knelt down to Flowey's eye level and stared him down.  
“What all do you know about Chara?”

Well.  
The true answer to that question was long. Long, happy, sad, angry, and tragic. But the true answer would all but reveal him as Asriel, and this was neither the time nor place for THAT conversation. Not that Flowey could think of a good place or time to have it, come to think of it. But it certainly wasn't now.

So he had to fudge his answer a bit. But that was fine- lying was easy. It was the truth that was hard.

“I don't!” He answered, trying to sound exasperated. “But I remember when timelines reset and stuff. And I have these fuzzy memories of a timeline where that kid slaughtered everyone in the Underground. I… I recognized them from that.”

Toriel stared blankly. “Chara would not…” she whispered.

But Asgore caught her eye, his eyebrows raised. It was a silent reminder of every temper tantrum Chara had thrown, every knife wielded, every threat made in a fit of anger, every nihilistic remark Chara had made in passing.

Toriel pursed her lips and bowed her head.  
“I do not want to believe it is true. But the evidence seems to clearly indicate that it is the case… Nevertheless, I will believe it when I see it.”

“I don't care who this punk is, they're KILLING people!” Undyne cried out. “We're gonna get to the bottom of this. Asgore's kid or not, they're going down.” Undyne looked ready to fillet Chara on the spot.

“Undyne, you'll want to put three or four guards on the candy shop,” Asgore said softly. “And a few of them should be human guards.”  
“Police officers,” Frisk corrected.  
“Yes. Those,” Asgore said. “The rest of our troops should patrol the town and search for a child in a green and yellow sweater. I can't imagine Chara having found shelter anywhere, so it shouldn't be too much trouble to find a child wandering the streets alone.”

“You got it,” Undyne said with a salute. “Should I go rally the troops?”  
“If you please,” Asgore said with a sad smile. “And… capture the killer alive, if possible. For… for my own peace of mind.”

Undyne nodded as she headed for the door. “Come on, Papyrus. We got a job to do.”  
Papyrus grinned and bolted upright before striding after Undyne. He wasn’t technically a Royal Guard, but he’d volunteered as a sentry to help in the guard efforts, by the look of it. He had probably been among those searching for Flowey when he’d gone missing. Flowey gave a half-smile; that might have been a more fun encounter than the one he had with Undyne.

“Wait, if Papyrus is going, he’s gonna take the car,” Sans realized. “Bro. Hang on-”

But Papyrus had already left.

“Nice, Papyrus,” Sans chuckled under his breath. “Guess we’re walking home.”  
“Nonsense. I would be happy to drive you home,” Asgore offered.  
“That really isn’t necess-” Toriel started.

“Please,” Asgore said quietly. “There is a killer on the loose who has been after humans and monsters. I would rather see you home safely.”  
Toriel frowned a bit. “I am capable of taking care of myself and I am quite sure that we could handle a little trouble.”  
“I know that you can. But it would be better if you did not have to.”  
“Asgore, we are fine!”

Sans shifted uncomfortably. Flowey knew firsthand that Sans could more than handle just about anybody in a fight, but in all of his encounters with Sans, it had been a one on one battle. If Sans’s attention lapsed for even a moment- if, say, Frisk or Toriel were in danger- Flowey could see a stray knife wiping out Sans’s singular health point and dusting him on the spot. 

But there was no way Sans was going to bring that up.

Flowey sighed. Sans was going to owe him for this.  
He played the ace up his sleeve.

“If I could pick, I’d take the car ride,” Flowey said, trying to sound as adorable and non-manipulative as possible. “You guys might be fine, but I’m kind of defenseless in this pot! If we run into trouble, I’m gonna be a sitting duck. And I’ve still got a splitting headache from the LAST time I met the killer…”

Frisk shrugged. “Flowey did kind of almost get murdered. Come on, mom, can we take the car please?”

Toriel pursed her lips.

“Very well. But do not think this means anything, Dreemurr,” she said sharply.  
“Of course not,” Asgore said, gracefully ignoring the venom dripping from her voice. “I only want you to be safe.”

Toriel’s face stormed with what seemed to be at least a dozen cutting remarks, but she sighed and pushed them away. “And thank you for the offer,” she said gracefully, if a little forcedly. 

As they walked out to the car, Frisk gave Flowey a thumbs up. Flowey gave a half-smile.

Then they all headed out to the garage, which held Asgore’s roomy five-person car. Sans took the front seat, leaving Toriel and Frisk to squeeze into the back seat. Luckily the car was large enough that they fit without too much trouble.

The five-minute car ride home was plagued with awkward silence. Sans made a few puns. Toriel laughed. Asgore tried to make small talk. He was met with dead air. Frisk’s hands traced the delicate linework on the exterior of Flowey’s pot. Flowey stared out the window.

He could see his reflection in the window. Flowey hadn’t really thought about it, but he hadn’t seen himself in a mirror or anything since getting loose. He had a brand new scar running down the side of his face from Chara’s knife. It looked… wrong somehow. He remembered that other timeline, and how Chara had sliced his face right down the middle, but this strike ran off center, just a half inch or so away from his left eye. The scar ran almost but not entirely down the length of his face, slicing through the nearest petal to boot. With that and the petal that Chara had nicked as he’d burrowed away, he looked a little battered.

Soul damage was easy to recover from. While Flowey had completely recovered from Toriel’s fire damage with just a night’s sleep, this was damage to his physical form, and wouldn’t be so easily mended. The time he’d spent unconscious had been time that he’d spent regrowing, like a tree growing new layers of bark after someone carved their initials into its surface. Or perhaps this was another instance of Toriel using healing magic on an unfamiliar being and having subpar results in turn, like had happened to Chara’s leg. 

Other than the fading remnants of a splitting headache, he seemed to have recovered from the incident, but it looked like this new scar was here to stay. Maybe this was for the best. That way every time he saw his own face, he’d be reminded of Chara’s repeated crimes against him, and maybe he’d learn from his mistakes. If nothing else, he’d be reminded that despite everything, he was still Flowey, and that he had survived worse.

Flowey watched house after house scroll by in the window as sunset lit the neighborhood. They were getting pretty close to home. Maybe Frisk would let him use the computer when they got home. That was something to look forw…  
…

As the car drove, Flowey caught an unmistakeable glimpse of Chara standing on the sidewalk. Time seemed to stop while Flowey watched Chara casually flick a knife around, almost as though part of a dance. Then Chara looked up from the ground and smiled, eyes dripping with black fluid, grinning an impossible grin, surrounded by red light.

Flowey shrieked.

“What’s wrong?” Frisk asked. The car had gone silent.  
“It was them. The killer. Back there,” Flowey sputtered, eyes wide.

“Turn this car around this instant,” Toriel roared. Asgore complied immediately, his shoulders visibly tense. The car swung around in a wide U-turn, and Toriel watched vigilantly through her window.

“Where…” she hissed.  
“I don’t see ‘em,” Sans said.

They circled up and down the street multiple times looking for Chara, but to no avail.

“Are you sure you saw them?” Frisk said uncertainly after several minutes of searching.  
“I thought…” Flowey started.  
“If this was a prank…” Toriel warned.  
“It wasn’t! You never believe me about anything!” Flowey complained. “I really saw them. I swear I did.”  
“Maybe you’re just seeing things,” Frisk suggested.

Flowey sighed. Maybe he was. This wasn’t a fight worth having either way.  
“Forget it,” he muttered. “Let’s just go home.”

\---

Back at the house, folded neatly on the front porch, was a fluffy green and yellow sweater. On it rested a small index card. 

The index card contained no words, but simply an illustration of a smiley face with red eyes, surrounded by small buttercups.

Chara had found him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was fun.  
> Let's finish the job.


	11. Concealment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (school is becoming busy. updates may slow for a few weeks, but they will be back. just a heads up)  
> (also the fic broke 1500 hits! it continues to be true that I love all of you for reading this. <3 just thought I'd say that. happy easter to those of you who celebrate that, and to those of you who don't i hope you had a wonderful day regardless.)

Everything turned into a big commotion after that. 

Turns out, Undyne had immediately convinced Mettaton to run a safety announcement on the radio after they left the house, warning humans and monsters alike to be on the lookout for a “dangerous human child in a green and yellow striped sweater.” No wonder Chara had ditched it.

With the sweater found on Toriel's doorstep, the announcement was revised to “human child with short brown hair wandering unattended,” but there were a great many humans who matched that description. Regardless, who would be afraid of a kid wandering around? (Besides Flowey.)

The Royal Guard and human police had their work cut out for them, for certain.

In response to this turn of events, Toriel decided it was no longer safe for them all to remain at the house. Sans and Papyrus offered a spare bedroom next door, but Toriel ultimately stayed with Undyne several streets away. 

Frisk and Flowey were taken to stay with Asgore for a while.

Asgore was as delighted as ever to see them over. By the time Frisk unpacked in the spare bedroom (the same room in the floorplan as their room back at Toriel's), it was bedtime and lights out. The events of the day had left everyone exhausted.

The royal guards and police officers didn’t find any bodies/dust in the main square that day. Nor did they find Chara.

\---

The next day, Frisk woke up early for school, and was taken to school by Asgore before Flowey even woke up. Then Asgore was called away to some kind of kingly business or other; he barely had time to get Flowey some water before hurrying away.

Then it was just Flowey alone.

This happened rarely back at Toriel's. She didn't trust Flowey very much, and tended to take him with her on errands so she could keep an eye on his activities. In the rare event that she could not, she had been known to leave his flowerpot in the bathtub, or somewhere else that wasn't flammable. (Suffice to say that Flowey had caused some trouble his first few days at the house. Heh.)

But Asgore seemed to have forgotten about Flowey’s track record, or simply had not cared. Perhaps he had correctly guessed that Flowey wasn't really feeling up to it right now. Or perhaps Flowey hadn't crossed his mind at all.

Flowey sighed and opened Frisk's laptop. He idly started searching for info on six-petaled golden flowers, his usual boredom routine.

No results, as usual.  
But…  
Hadn't Asgore said that golden flowers generally possessed five petals? Maybe that was why he could never find any info- he’d been searching for the wrong terms this whole time. Hmm...

On a whim, Flowey searched for five-petaled golden flowers, and was met with a host of encyclopedic entries on his flower type. The page filled with sunlight requirements (low), water requirements (high), information about soil composition, and climate and temperature and a hundred other things Flowey had never known before.

All of these answers had been here all along, waiting for Flowey to ask the right questions. Flowey considered this while morning light streamed through Frisk's half-open blinds onto the ivory carpet. 

What was it that Papyrus had said to him at the arcade? That if he found a way for Flowey to be happy, maybe Flowey would stop hurting people. 

Maybe that was the secret to dealing with Chara? At the very least, maybe he’d been asking the wrong questions in that area as well.

But memories bubbled to the surface of his brain. Memories of Papyrus's trashbag brother, and words that had echoed down the hall while Flowey had pleaded with Asgore for help.

“I always thought the anomaly was doing this cause they were unhappy, and when they got what they wanted, they would stop all this. And maybe all they needed was.. I dunno. Some good food, some bad laughs, some nice friends. But that's ridiculous, right? Yeah, you're the type of person who won't EVER be happy. You'll keep consuming timelines over and over, until…”

Flowey shook the memories away. But he couldn't shake the sudden feeling that he was missing something. None of this made sense. 

If there was one thing he knew about Chara, it was that Chara would doggedly, stubbornly pursue all kinds of crazy things for the sake of determination, but always for some reason or another. While they had both been alive, Chara spent a lot of time devising silly plans to get into all sorts of mischief; they often involved him in some way, and he usually ended up getting roped into the whole mess and into trouble as a result. (All leading up to the greatest mistake of them all, of course.) Those plans had been as convoluted as they were dastardly, but they always fulfilled some kind of purpose. 

Chara had been known to lash out in anger, and had sought to kill the humans on the surface in the name of revenge and breaking the Barrier. Those were bad reasons, but they were reasons nonetheless.

But why was Chara doing all of this now? There had to be a PURPOSE to it all.

And Flowey would never be safe until he could figure out what it was.

\---

Asgore got home a little while later.

“Sorry to leave you, Flowey,” he said when he got home, hanging up his cape in the coat closet. “Urgent business came up.”

“What’s going on? I mean, if I may ask,” Flowey asked, tacking on the last phrase as an afterthought. He wasn't prince of the kingdom and wasn't entitled to know anymore. But Asgore was a talker and would probably tell him anyway.

Asgore smiled sadly. “Just… consequences for a decision I made. Toriel would be glad to hear.”

Flowey raised an eyebrow. “Huh?

“Whenever Chara or Asriel broke a rule and needed to be disciplined,” Asgore explained, “Tori would always say ‘You are not above consequences’ to the children while deciding how to handle the situation. Then one day, she left a pie in the oven too long, causing it to burn. She scolded the pie for burning, not knowing that Chara stood behind her. Without missing a beat, Chara quipped, ‘Did you think you were above consequences?’”

Flowey laughed. He remembered that. It had become Chara's catchphrase for weeks after that.

Asgore chuckled in memory. “I can just imagine Toriel saying that to me now. And she would be right. I am responsible for what happened to those human souls, and now I'm… well, dealing with the consequences.“

Flowey made a confused face.

“The human authorities. They have requested information about the humans who went missing on Mt. Ebott. I told them I would gather what information I could, but…” Asgore sighed deeply.  
“I am scared that if the human authorities discover what I did, it will jeopardize the truce we have struck, and endanger the lives of the monsters here. But the humans’ families deserve to know what happened, and I must do something with the bodies.”

Flowey nodded sympathetically. “Yeah. Dunno what to tell ya,” he said with a shrug. “Consequences, right? Can't live with ‘em, can't live without ‘em. Maybe you'll get lucky and end up in a flower pot like me!”

Asgore laughed. “I suppose you would know a thing or two about consequences, wouldn't you? Toriel told me that you killed some folks.”

Flowey wrinkled his nose. “Well, none of them are dead NOW! I reset and everything, after all. And Frisk was just too stubborn to die.”

Asgore chuckled. “And what a blessing that turned out to be.”

Huh. Well, they did all make it to the surface, didn't they? That had to count for something.

“I will come to a decision eventually. I don’t mean to trouble you with my burdens,” Asgore said apologetically.

“Well, I mean, I did ask,” Flowey pointed out. “What’re you gonna do now?”

Asgore considered for a moment.  
“Have you ever played Stratego?”

\---

Flowey and Asgore played board games until it was time to get Frisk from school. Flowey excelled at Cheat and Go Fish and other games involving deception and psychology (primarily because Asgore was an open book without a shade of trickery in his entire being), but Asgore readily trounced Flowey at Stratego and chess. Must be all that battle experience coming into play.

Then Asgore picked up Frisk from school, and together they all played a few more games: Sorry! (Frisk won), Operation (Flowey won, because vines were a lot steadier than hands as it turned out), and Candy Land (Asgore won). It was nice to do something to distract from what was going on outside.

Then, close to sundown, Asgore had to leave again.

“I should be back in half an hour,” he said as he fastened his cape. “If I am not, you are to call Undyne and tell her what happened. She will see to it that you are both taken care of.”

“What does that mean? Where are you going?” Frisk asked nervously.  
“To the town square with the rest of the Royal Guard and anybody else we can find to help,” he replied bluntly. “To finish this once and for all.”

Frisk's eyes went wide. “Be careful…”

Asgore nodded once. “Please lock the door behind me. I will not take my keys in case things… go south. Make good choices while I am gone.”

Then Asgore left the house.

Flowey and Frisk sat in the living room in silence.  
“I hope he's okay,” Frisk said worriedly. “I guess it doesn't matter to you, though.”

“I wouldn't say that,” Flowey said, thinking. “I can’t really love anyone, but I'd be disappointed if he died because then he wouldn't be around to play games with anymore, and that would be boring.”

Frisk nodded. “That makes sense. So even if you can't love anyone, you can still appreciate that they might have something to offer you?”

“Something like that,” Flowey said. “Some people are… Useful.”

Frisk nodded philosophically.

“What do you care, anyway?” Flowey muttered, squinting. “It’s not like it makes any difference to you.”  
Frisk shrugged, picking at the shaggy carpet. “I dunno. I guess I just want to understand.”  
“Understand what?” Flowey said, frowning. “Is this some kind of sick joke? Some kind of morbid fascination with the weird soulless flower? I don’t need your worthless pity,” he hissed.

Frisk looked genuinely hurt and taken aback. “Not at all! I just…” Frisk fought for the right words for a moment. 

“It’s just.... You always seem so sad all the time! And seeing you sad makes me sad too. I just… Want to do whatever I can to help, I guess. So maybe you don’t have to be sad anymore.”

“It’s not like you can fix me,” Flowey said matter-of-factly, staring at the wall. “Nobody can. I’m stuck this way because I was stupid and lost my soul, and nothing you or anyone else can do will ever fix that.”

“I know that,” Frisk said earnestly. “But you're here now, and you're alive, and I want to believe you can do something with yourself and not have to be sad forever. Besides… it's my fault you're stuck here, and I feel kind of responsible.”

“It's fine,” Flowey said, voice sharper than he intended. “I told you that already.”

It was true. He'd agreed to come to the surface, partially because Frisk had promised he could move around and see stuff here. Frisk also suggested the flowerpot so Flowey could have a place indoors to stay at night, and so he could go inside buildings that would otherwise be inaccessible, which was fine. Neither of them had considered that Toriel would have problems with this arrangement, but she'd taken issues with his track record and imposed some restrictions on his freedom as a result. He'd been effectively trapped in his flowerpot at that time.

“No, it's not okay!” Frisk cried out. “I had no idea mom was gonna make you stay in that dumb pot all day. I never would have come and tried-”

“Frisk, stop it,” Flowey sighed. “That wasn't your fault and I don't blame you.”

Frisk took a breath, hands shaking. “I just… I dunno.”

“Well, I'm here now,” Flowey said in a raised voice. “Even if I ran away to the ends of the Underground, she'd STILL send Undyne to find me and bring me back! I'm basically stuck here now, and you're stuck dealing with me. And I’m sorry that I screw up and hurt people, even when I’m not trying to. And I'm sorry that I'm not the Asriel you were probably hoping to find when you came by that day. And…” 

Here Flowey took a breath. “And I'm sorry that I never will be.”

A small silence.

Frisk gave a tiny smile. “Well… you're not the Flowey that killed everything in the Underground anymore, either. I can tell. You're something… something…”  
“In between,” Flowey said quietly. Neither human nor monster.  
“Neither Flowey nor Asriel,” Frisk said in a sing-song voice, almost as though reading Flowey's mind. “Maybe we should call you Asrey! Or Flowriel!”

Flowey chuckled in spite of himself. “Frisk, you might be worse at naming than Dad. Also if you say either of those things in front of either of them, I promise to strangle you in your sleep.”

Frisk just laughed. Flowey wondered if his own threats were even threatening anymore. Maybe he was losing his edge. Shame.

“Hey,” Frisk said suddenly. “Maybe Asgore doesn't know about Toriel's grounding you. We can ask to go play in the back yard or something.”  
...A very good point. Flowey had to admit that sounded like it might be fun.

Suddenly a knock sounded from the front door.  
“Hey, maybe that's him right now!” Frisk said excitedly, picking up Flowey's pot and running to the front door.

Frisk opened up the door. 

But the person at the door was not Asgore.

“Hey kiddo,” Sans said, eyes dark and empty.  
“You got some explaining to do.”

Then his hand glowed blue, and Frisk plummeted to the hardwood of the front entry, clutching Flowey's pot tightly. Both of them cried out.

“Let's start with the first, most pertinent question,” Sans said, staring down at the two of them.  
  
“W h a t  
d i d  
y o u  
d o  
t o  
m y  
b r o t h e r.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * You feel like you're going to have a bad time.


	12. Clash

“What are you talking about?” Frisk squeaked from the floor. “Is Papyrus okay? What's going on??”

“Quit playing dumb with me,” Sans said, raising his voice. “I was talking to him on the phone when it happened. I could hear EVERY WORD. He went out with the Royal Guard to find the killer, but wasn't having luck. He called to ask for advice when suddenly he cried out, ‘Wait, that sweater...Frisk? What are you doing here? Frisk, you should go home.’ Then there's this awful slicing noise and I can hear Papyrus disintegrate on the other side of the phone. I’ll ask you one more time. WHAT. DID. YOU. DO. TO. MY. BROTHER.”

Frisk's eyes welled with tears. “No. Papyrus…”

Sans’s clenched fist flashed blue for a moment. “Don't give me that. You murdered him, didn't you. Same as you murdered all those other folks. It's been you this whole time, hasn't it?”

Flowey's eyes were wide as he strained to watch the display from his position in Frisk's grasp.

“That doesn't make any sense!” Flowey cried out, twisting to face Sans. “The murders started last Saturday. I was playing video games with Frisk all day. It's impossible!”

“Shove it, weirdo,” Sans said dismissively. “Like you two haven't been in cahoots this whole time. I don't trust a single word that comes out of that soulless mouth of yours.” Flowey snarled.

Frisk was still rooted to the ground by Sans's blue attack in such a way that seemed to make breathing difficult. “It wasn't me, Sans,” Frisk wheezed. “I promise. It wasn't. I would never. I…I...”

“Gotta admit, you had me fooled,” Sans said as he circled Frisk's form on the ground. “Coming to me with so-called ‘info’ was pretty gutsy, not to mention slashing up your best friend over here. But I did the research. I know what really happened.”

“Sans, you are a lunatic!” Flowey shouted. “Let us go!”

“No can do, pal,” Sans said with a shrug. “I don't remember much from previous timelines, but I'll tell you what I remember. I get dreams, just like you said. Nightmares about having to fight a human kid in the castle. Must have done it hundreds of times. Bones, Blasters, blue attacks- I gave it my all for once in my stupid life, and it still wasn't enough. And those dreams end with a slashing knife and me watching myself disintegrate.”

Sans chuckled darkly. “But that's not even the best part. Kid, I think I figured out what you did next, too. I saw the timelines. I checked the reports. After you kill me, you go to the throne room and kill Asgore. Maybe you even betray Flowey. Then the timeline frays and goes black. You destroy EVERYTHING. And it still isn't enough for you! So what do you do? You sell your soul to bring it back, and then befriend us like nothing ever happened, but we all know that's not the truth.”

Frisk struggled against the floor, but it was no use. There was no way out of this without engaging Sans in battle, which was not preferable for anyone.

“So you did it,” Sans continued. “You broke the Barrier and now you're slaughtering humans and monsters alike. Are you happy? Is this what you always wanted? To see just how much dust and carnage you could generate?”

“Not...me…” Frisk gasped, face turning blue and streaming with tears.  
“Sans, lay off. You're hurting Frisk!” Flowey cried out. A forced reset would throw everything into commotion, and Flowey would not tolerate that.

“Can it. You were in on this too, I bet. Making covers so Frisk- or should I say Chara- could get away from home. You're just as much to blame,” Sans grunted.  
“You are delusional!” Flowey shouted. “Frisk couldn't have done it! Just ask Toriel!!”  
“Would if I could,” Sans said, shuffling. “But she went MISSING after she went out to look for her kid a half hour ago. But you wouldn't know about that, would you?”

“Mom…” Frisk whispered, breath thin.  
“But I got a theory. Frisk, if you suddenly become unable to attack people...I bet the murders will suddenly, magically stop. Wanna help test my theory?”

An all-too-familiar noise filled the room, and Flowey stared into the gazes of four terrifying Gaster Blasters. Flowey gulped. Their time had grown very short.

“Frisk, listen very closely,” he whispered. “Roll me out the door. If I can reach soil, I can get us out of this. You have to trust me.”

Frisk stared at the Blasters hovering in the air, and then out the front door. The choice was a no-brainer.  
Frisk hurled Flowey's flowerpot through the front entry. Sans frowned in confusion.  
Flowey's pot landed sideways in the front yard, cracking slightly. In a split second, he burrowed into the yard. 

Ah, now this was more like it. He sprouted from the ground with six feet of vines. Then, in the scariest voice he could muster, boomed out:

“LET FRISK GO, TRASHBAG.”

Sans looked up at Flowey with a tired gaze. “You gotta be kidding me.”

But Sans didn't release Frisk. So a coil of vines burst from the ground and wrapped around Sans like a snake; he cried out, and the Blasters disappeared. Flowey twirled the vine around, whipping Sans through the front door and away from Frisk, until Frisk stopped glowing blue and started taking deep breaths.

Fantastic. Flowey couldn't handle Sans on his own, but if he could distract him for long enough while Frisk remembered how to breathe, well… Flowey felt pretty good about their chances then.

Flowey threw Sans against the ground. It didn't count as a blow and wouldn't deal any damage, but it would throw him for a loop, and he didn't want to hurt his standing by killing Sans, even in self-defense. Sans rolled over a few times, cradling his head. Flowey had bought about ten seconds.

He sprouted near Frisk in the front entry. “Hey Frisk, are you okay? I could really use your help over he- ACK”

An aisle of bone attacks hit Flowey from behind. Stinging with karma, he turned around, seething.

“What is your PROBLEM?!?!” Flowey screamed. “I thought your big shtick was being better and more ethically pure than the rest of us! Well, I got news for ya, pal- what you're doing right now isn't right! How low do you have to stoop to have to take morality advice from a flower with no moral standards whatsoever?!”

Sans wiped some dirt off his face, eyes dark. “About as low as impersonating Tori’s dead kid to go murder folks.”  
“If you had listened for even a SLIVER of a second,” Flowey fumed, “You would have heard that it ISN'T FRISK.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Frisk slowly getting up, and grab something from the front entry.  
“You were right, back at Grillby’s. I've stood by long enough,” Sans growled. “I'm not gonna watch you murder anyone else. This ends now.”

Then Frisk emerged from the front entry with an umbrella, filled with DETERMINATION.  
“Your story is wrong, Sans.”

Sans summoned a Blaster with a flick of his wrist.  
Frisk swung the umbrella like a baseball bat, knocking the Blaster out of the park and out of sight.  
Sans's eyes went wide. Welp.

“I don't want to fight you. I don't want to fight anyone!” Frisk cried out. “But your story is wrong. I still have my soul. And if fighting you will prove it, then I'll do it!”

Then Frisk engaged Sans in battle. Frisk's soul blinked a few times before materializing in midair, as vibrant and scarlet and exist-y as ever. Sans stared.

“I never sold my soul. It's right here. I wouldn't be able to battle you without it.”  
Sans took a deep breath. “Kid, cut the crap. I know you killed folks in the other timelines. I have the reports.”  
“And so what if I did??” Frisk squeaked out, crying again. 

Flowey's eyes went wide. What was Frisk doing? It was true, of course. Flowey knew that. But he'd agreed not to tell anyone as long as Frisk agreed not to tell anyone his identity. A secret for a secret.

“I admit it!” Frisk cried out. “I hurt some people during my first run through. Some of it was self-defense. Some of it wasn't. I'm responsible for all of it. And I made a bad choice and I've been trying to make up for it ever since. And how long will it last? I can't erase the suffering I caused, and I can't escape the consequences of my actions, but everyone has made mistakes! Just now you tried to kill me, and Flowey tried to kill you, and some humans tried to kill Flowey, and it's this big loop of who hurt who that never ends!”

Silence.

“What happened to forgiveness?” Frisk cried out hoarsely. “What happened to being a good person if you tried? Or caring about people in spite of their flaws??”

Frisk threw the umbrella to the ground. “I'm tired of all this. I'm tired of fighting and hurting and being hurt.”

Sans stood there dumbstruck. Flowey felt like he should say something, but the words wouldn't come.  
“If mom and Papyrus are dead,” Frisk croaked, “then none of this matters anymore.”

Then Frisk took a deep breath and picked up the umbrella before walking back inside. The battle was over; the front door locked with a click.

Just Sans and Flowey now.

“...gonna go crunch the numbers one more time…” Sans muttered before he took a shortcut and disappeared.

Just Flowey now. And he was free again.

He sprouted by Frisk's bedroom window. The blinds were half open; he could see Frisk curled up in bed. He knocked his head against the window a few times. “Frisk?”  
Frisk turned over in bed. Didn't really seem up to it right now. 

Flowey reached a vine into the room and closed the blinds. Sleep well.

\---

Asgore still hadn't gotten home yet. Flowey considered going after him but quickly thought better of that plan, on account of Chara still existing. 

What had Asgore said to do if he took longer than half an hour? Call Undyne? That would be kind of hard with Frisk in bed and Flowey outside his flower pot with no way of getting into the building to reach the phone. (Concrete foundations were the plague of his existence, he swore.)

Flowey had no idea who any of Asgore's neighbors were, and resolved to only bother them in an emergency, like if Chara should show up. In the meantime, he got cozy in a flowerbed in the front of the yard and kept a lookout, hoping and praying that Chara was nowhere nearby.

\---

Asgore didn't get home until 2 in the morning. Flowey was waiting in the flowerbed, awake and alert and a little on edge. It had been an anxiety-inducing number of hours since the fight. Flowey's nerves were starting to fray.

“Howdy, Flowey,” Asgore said surprisedly. “You left your pot…”  
“Yeah, you could say there was something of an incident,” Flowey said, cringing.”  
“Indeed,” Asgore mumbled, looking at the yard. It was a little beat up from the fight earlier. Oops.

“Hey,” Flowey said suddenly. “Is it true…”  
Asgore frowned slightly. “What?”  
“Sans came by and said that… um… Papyrus and Toriel…”

Asgore bowed his head. Stark shadows shrouded his expression from Flowey's view.

“Guess that answers that,” Flowey said quietly.

Asgore took a deep breath. He seemed to sag under the weight of that evening's events.  
“We can discuss this in the morning,” he said quietly, mournfully. “Is Frisk safe?”  
“Yeah, sound asleep in bed,” Flowey replied.

“Good.”

The front door was still open; Asgore stepped inside.

“W-wait!” Flowey called out. Asgore turned around inquisitively.  
“Can… can you take me in, please?” Flowey pleaded. “It's dark out here and ...I'm scared…”

Asgore smiled warmly and gave a nod. Flowey recognized that smile- it was the same one Asgore used to make Before. When he had been very small, whenever he'd been afraid of humans under the bed, Dad had made that same comforting smile and told him that everything would be okay, and that he was safe. 

Flowey sprouted back in his pot, and Asgore swept the bulky pot up in his arms like it weighed nothing. His massive furry hands were each at least twice as big as Flowey's entire head. 

For a moment, Flowey indulged in the feeling of safety. Even if it wasn't true, it was fun to make believe for a minute that Dad would take care of all this, that everyone would somehow be okay, and he'd be safe and sound from the scary humans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip :(
> 
> updates will probably resume as normal in a few weeks, assuming i survive finals.


	13. Confession

It was a good thing that there was no school the next day, because Frisk slept in past noon. 

Flowey, on the other hand, slept fitfully for a few hours and finally decided that it wasn't worth it. So he woke around six in the morning and booted up Frisk's computer. Flowey could hear Asgore moving around the house about fifteen minutes later, but Asgore didn't disturb the room.

A little searching on the internet revealed the rest of what had happened last night. Several local newspapers reported that a large-scale combined effort from both human and monster forces had failed to apprehend the killer in the town square. Dozens of casualties were reported, human and monster, including the Queen of Monsters. That news filled Flowey with a familiar aching numbness as a faded memory of Asriel struggled to mourn Toriel, but he pushed it aside. He didn’t have time for that right now.

One reporter had somehow managed to snap a picture of the killer, which was hosted on the website. It was a crooked grayscale image of cobblestone pavement, showing a hazy figure in the background- a child in a striped sweater, holding a pocketknife coated in something red and goopy. Some kind of dust/blood mix? Eesh.

Flowey took a deep breath and enlarged the image. Chara might have been smiling a little, but it was hard to tell for sure because the image was so blurry. 

Or maybe Chara had done that weird disappear-y thing that Flowey had seen. How was Chara doing that, anyway? It wasn't like any kind of magic that Flowey had seen before. Ghosts could disappear and go through things, but dead or not, that shouldn't be something Chara could do. Humans couldn't turn into monsters.

Flowey remembered the old story about the Barrier. It had been created by humans, right? So maybe this was some weird kind of human magic. Flowey started searching the internet.

A little research turned up some details on the subject. Human magic and monster magic were similar in a lot of ways, but differed in permanence. Monster magic was meant to be brief and short-lived, like bullet patterns and monster food, while human magic was meant to be permanent, like the Barrier and DETERMINATION.

Of course, these were not hard set definitions. Humans could eat monster food (with some unpredictable results), and monsters could handle determination (with very unpredictable results). But these fundamental concepts remained the same.

Chara's disappearing trick didn't match that description of human magic, though. Flowey could think of no reason for that to have happened when he fired those bullets. If anything, he should have triggered a battle with Chara, but he didn't. Why hadn’t…

A memory bubbled to the surface of Flowey's mind.

He remembered a time long ago, when he and Chara had finally made it back home through the Barrier after everything had happened. He'd lowered Chara’s body to the floor as gently as he could manage before he collapsed to the golden floor of the throne room. His wounds felt like they were on fire, and the room was starting to turn fuzzy and dark. He could feel himself falling apart, like he would disintegrate any second, and he could feel his own fear in the pit of his stomach, filling him with paralyzing dread. In his mind, Chara was figuratively shaking his shoulders, screaming at him to hold on, begging him to stay determined. Chara didn't want to die- not for real. For all those times Chara had teased him for being a crybaby, now it was Chara who was crying, and he was calm by comparison.

By some miracle, mom and dad had heard him return, and they reached the throne room in an instant. Mom’s eyes had been wide and teary as she squeezed his hand. Dad had held him close. 

He had been covered in terrible wounds-- stabbing, slashing, mortal wounds. Some of them had started to turn dusty at the edge, which frightened him more than anything. Mom had tried healing them, but it was too little too late. The damage was done, and she could only postpone his now inevitable death for a few more minutes. 

In a quiet voice, he and Chara had alternated explaining most of what happened. They had both thought that Mom would be furious, but she wasn't- she was just heartbroken and grief-stricken. That was definitely worse. Dad had bowed his head, and his breathing had gotten weird for a second. He had clearly tried to maintain his composure, to put on a strong face and stay brave for the sake of his children in their dying moments. Ultimately, he failed.

Chara and him had held on for as long as possible through the now-excruciating pain, but eventually they could do so no longer. The pain was unbearable, and Mom’s formidable healing power could only provide a thin veneer of aid. At this point, it was only prolonging their suffering. 

Mom had realized this, and after a final hushed “I love you,” she ceased her healing efforts, letting them go.

Then she and Dad had grasped him in one final hug. 

He soon disintegrated into a scattering of dust in their arms, leaving his and Chara’s souls quivering in midair, glowing scarlet and ivory in the twilight of the throne room.

He remembered the universe around him shattering into a million black shards when his soul had cracked. The last thing he remembered was an explosion of red light from Chara's soul as it shattered alongside his own, and then everything being engulfed by silence and void before fading away completely.

Then…  
Well, a lot of other stuff happened. But the fact remained that Chara's soul had shattered. It was gone, just like his own.

A cold realization dawned on Flowey.

If Chara was back…  
Then Chara would not have a SOUL. 

Chara would be as incapable of love and compassion as Flowey himself, plus whatever other things that humans relied on their souls to do. Chara would have that same overwhelming, intolerable void that Flowey knew so well. 

But Chara was never one to take life sitting down, and to accept that suffering was inevitable. That had been at least part of the reason why Chara had convinced him to go to the surface in the first place- to solve the situation of monsterkind’s suffering. Chara would always take action to fix bad situations, and would never be satisfied with a subpar existence.

Chara had to be looking for a SOUL.

Flowey stared at the wall for several long minutes.

Human souls were what granted humans their permanent magic. It all made sense now. How could Flowey have even entered a battle with Chara? Perhaps he had, but Chara’d had no soul to offer to the fray, and had disappeared instead. Then, when the battle ended by default due to lack of participants, Chara had reappeared and caught him by surprise.

Chara had battled folks back in the Underground, though. So Chara must have had a SOUL then. Had Chara had somehow stolen Frisk's soul? How had Frisk gotten it back, then?

Flowey would have to ask Frisk some questions later.

This mystery just kept getting deeper and deeper, but Flowey felt pretty good about his guess. If Chara's experience of going without a SOUL was anything like his own… well, he couldn't exactly blame Chara for doing what he himself had done under those same circumstances. He had tried EVERYTHING to fill that void, to no avail, and he could never judge Chara for doing the same.

Flowey spent the rest of the morning studying up on human magic. It seemed like this was going to be important.

\---

Eventually, Frisk turned over in bed.

Flowey looked over. Frisk’s eyes were clenched shut determinedly. Flowey might have assumed Frisk was still asleep, but then Frisk turned over in bed again, face scrunched up. No, Frisk was clearly awake, albeit against their wishes.

“You awake?” Flowey asked quietly.  
Frisk turned over a third time in response, making a loud “MMMMPH” noise. Flowey chuckled a bit.

“You might as well get up,” Flowey suggested.  
Frisk’s head shook vehemently.  
“Come on,” Flowey chided. “It’s not like sleeping all day will fix anything. Believe me, I’ve tried.”  
Frisk burrowed under the blanket in response. Good grief.

Frisk was just being ridiculous now, so Flowey turned to Frisk’s laptop. That song Papyrus had played incessantly in the car several days ago- what had it been called?

Oh, that’s right!

Flowey pulled it up on the internet, and it started playing quietly through the laptop’s speakers.

Frisk moaned.  
“What? I thought you liked this song,” Flowey teased.  
Frisk emerged from the blanket long enough to throw a pillow at Flowey. Flowey dodged easily. Amateur.

“You are the actual worst,” Frisk called out, voice muffled by the blanket.

Flowey rolled his eyes and shut off the song. Frisk popped out from the blanket a few moments later.

“Why do you have to suck so much,” Frisk said without any energy.  
“Because sleeping all day won’t help anything,” Flowey responded bitterly. “I used to do that a lot. Sleeping all my time away, I mean. Back when I first woke up as… well, me. It was easier to be asleep because then I didn’t have to face reality and the truth of what happened. But it didn’t fix anything, and I'd just have a headache when I finally did wake up. Don’t do that to yourself.”

Frisk was quiet.

“Besides,” Flowey pointed out. “If you hate how things went, you can always just reset. Then it’ll be like none of this ever happened! It’ll just be a bad dream.”

Frisk’s lips pursed.  
“Not yet,” they said after a long moment. “If we reset now, it won’t solve anything. C… Chara will just reset with us, right? And go off and cause more havoc, and hurt everyone again, and we’ll just have to do it over and over again. No, we should find Chara and put a stop to this first.”

Flowey gave a shrugging motion. “But if an entire human and monster army couldn’t stop Chara, what can?”  
“Me,” Frisk said resolutely. “Because I have determination, and I won’t give up.”

Flowey nodded. “You know, I don't know how much you saw, but I tried to battle Chara by the candy shop. I guess you could say it didn't go very well, hee hee!”

Frisk grunted in acknowledgement.

“It was the weirdest thing!” Flowey said in a wheedling voice. “I threw some pellets, which should have started a battle, but Chara just disappeared instead! I guess without a SOUL, Chara can't battle in the proper sense.”

“Chara doesn't have a SOUL,” Frisk confirmed decisively. 

Hmm. What would Frisk know about that? Something wasn't right here.

“Funny you say that!” Flowey said brightly, squinting a bit. “Because the person who killed everyone in the Underground sure did! I mean, it'd be pretty hard to fight Sans without one! A big, bright red SOUL to dodge everybody with…”

All the blood drained from Frisk’s face.

“Seems you haven't been entirely honest with everyone, have you, Frisk?” Flowey said with a lopsided grin, eyes narrowed. “Wanna start talking?”

Frisk sat still as a statue in bed, eyes wide and petrified.

“Oh come on! Do you really think I'm gonna judge you?” Flowey laughed. “Do I look like some kind of hypocrite to you? I can’t get mad at you for doing the same stuff I did! No, we're one and the same, aren't we?”

Frisk flinched, eyes clenching shut upon Flowey's words. 

Then, after a deep breath, Frisk got talking.

“It started when I fell to the Underground. Kill or be killed, you said, and I guess I took that to heart. I got in fights with some monsters and … I finished them off. I could feel myself getting stronger each time I did it. HP, LV, EXP… I knew I needed those to survive. I also knew things would get harder when I left the Ruins, so I … did some grinding before I left.”

Flowey just grinned. This was RICH.

“It took me a while,” Frisk admitted. “I guess I saw it as a game to see how many I could… get rid of. I didn't think about it very long. Then, monsters stopped coming, and I started hearing weird voices.”

Flowey raised his eyebrows.

Frisk's eyes closed. “I think that was Chara. My determination brought them back or something. Anyway, Chara started telling me things-- strategies, how many monsters were nearby, stuff like that. I'd like to say that I lost control and Chara took over, but that's not true. I just killed everything because Chara told me to, I guess. Because I felt like it. It seemed… efficient.”

Flowey chuckled a bit. Of all people, he knew how liberating it was to act that way.

“Sans tried to talk me out of the whole thing, but I didn't listen,” Frisk continued. “I didn't see monsters as real people and just wiped everything out. Through Snowdin, Waterfall, and Hotland, and eventually the Core and New Home as well. You had some stuff to say there. So did Chara, believe it or not. I could feel all kinds of leftover memories from when you two were still alive. Then Sans tried to give me a bad time, but eventually I got past him, to the throne room… With you and Asgore…”

Flowey's grin faded a bit.

“That was when Chara took over,” Frisk said dully, staring at the wall. “You took care of Asgore, but Chara got… Not angry, exactly, but… vengeful. And then killed you.”

Flowey blinked a few times. Oh.

“Then... I finally got to see Chara,” Frisk said, eyes closed. “Chara looked a lot like me, and asked if I wanted to destroy the world. But… I didn’t want to. For the first time, I got cold feet and said no. I wanted to do something different.”

Flowey's eyes went wide. Defying Chara? That was a recipe for disaster.

“Chara wasn't happy,” Frisk laughed sadly. “After saying something about being the one who was really in control, Chara did what I wouldn’t, and destroyed everything. That really gave me a scare. I realized that I had made a mistake… but it was too late.”

Flowey nodded.

“I tried to go back. I waited and waited for some way to fix it. Eventually Chara showed up again, seeming confused about why I wanted to bring it back. I convinced Chara to undo everything… but they got to take my SOUL in exchange. Then Chara reset the entire world after that.”

Flowey stared. “So you lied to Sans? But you… how did you…”

“I couldn't handle it,” Frisk said mournfully. “Not having a SOUL. It was the worst feeling in the world. Chara had used some kind of magic so I couldn't get it back, said something about me not being above consequences. But then I realized that I was a human, too. And I had every right to use magic as Chara did. Chara had left a.. A curse, I guess. A tag on my heart that made it so I didn't have a SOUL anymore. So I just... deleted it.”

Flowey blinked several times.

“I went through the Underground again, but only killing the things that got in my way. I ran from a lot of battles. Then I reached Toriel, and I …. I couldn't kill her. Not again. I found another way to get past her, and figured out that I'd been doing it all wrong. I remembered that trick Chara had done to start everything over, and figured out how to do it myself. Everything was alive again, and nobody remembered- except you.”

Flowey nodded. That sounded about right.

“Then I figured out a way to save everyone, and break the Barrier, with your help. I thought I got everyone a happy ending, but Chara hadn't forgotten what I'd done.” Frisk shivered. “I think Chara would have taken me over completely, but since I undid that spell, Chara did something else instead.”

“Came back to life, you mean,” Flowey said, finally understanding. “Chara couldn't use your meat suit to kill everyone, and had to make do with their own, and then came back by sheer determination.”

Frisk nodded, eyes watery. “This… all of this is my fault. I messed up. I thought I had to kill everyone for my own self-defense. I thought I had to listen to Chara. I thought I was above consequences. And now Chara's going to kill everyone anyway, and… I have to stop it. I can't let this happen again.”

Flowey laughed bitterly. “Well, we sure make a fine pair of suckers, don't we? Looks like Chara got the better of both of us.”

“Yeah, but you said no when Chara said to kill people,” Frisk said numbly.

“Who cares? I went ahead and did it anyway, of my own free will!” Flowey laughed. “Chara's only killing people in the town square as a giant up-yours to me anyway. This is my problem too. And it looks like we both have some unfinished business with Chara that we oughta take care of.”

Frisk groaned, pulling up the bed covers.

“Or you can sit in bed all day while Chara slaughters everyone you love!” Flowey said cheerfully. “Your choice. But what do I know? I'm just a flower.”

“We can't just waltz into town square tonight,” Frisk said slowly. “We need a plan.”

The corner of Flowey's mouth pulled into a smug half-smile. “Right. And I think I have the beginnings of one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we go! A few more puzzle pieces to fit into this whole mess.
> 
> Shoutout to all you folks who did a Geno route and tried to delete it afterwards: This one's for you. :D
> 
> (next update will hopefully be soon-ish. within a week or so? don't quote me on that. a little bit of IRL business to take care of and then we're back on track)


	14. Collaboration

Eventually Frisk and Flowey left the room to get food/water, respectively.

“Howdy,” Asgore greeted with a surprised look. His eyes had heavy bags from a nearly sleepless night, and seemed to be weighed down by grief. But his smile was sincere as he found a box of cereal for Frisk and measured water for Flowey.

Nevertheless, the dining room was very, very quiet.

“Do… do you want to talk about it?” Asgore probed gently, looking at Frisk with deep concern.

Frisk didn't respond, but just kept eating cereal while staring at the table.

Asgore smiled sympathetically and opened the newspaper. That was always how he had dealt with Chara, too- never pressed for too much info, leaving Chara to deal with issues and approach him when ready. But that was okay, because Chara had always gone to someone else instead.

The front page of the newspaper, legible from Flowey's spot on the table, recounted the incident from last night in a little more detail than the article Flowey had found several hours ago. Turns out Toriel was found alive in an alleyway last evening, although she had clearly Fallen Down. She was the only monster victim who wasn't found as a pile of dust. 

More interesting was the report describing the nearby alleyway, which was unscorched from the fight. So Toriel hadn't fought back...

The article continued on the next page, which Flowey couldn't see.

“So, how many dead in total?” Flowey asked curiously.  
“67 was the last count,” Asgore said, sounding very tired. “Mostly humans. Monsters were only killed for getting in the killer's way, according to some reports, but it seems the killer actively sought human victims…”

Flowey closed his eyes. Chara had always hated humanity.

“What do we do next?” Frisk asked suddenly, mouth full.

“I do not know,” Asgore admitted defeatedly. “This was supposed to be a last-resort effort that would yield results. There is no immediately clear path to pursue now, save for evacuating the city and other such extreme measures.”

“...Maybe I could try,” Frisk said quietly. “I mean, I spared all of you in the Underground. I wanna try the same with this kid now.”

Asgore's eyes went wide with worry. “You cannot,” he replied, sounding fearful. “It is too dangerous.”

“Well, if I die, then I'll have to reset, right?” Frisk said with a small, sad smile. “That would bring everyone back.”

Asgore stared at Frisk for a long moment, looking every bit as flummoxed and terrified as he had when Frisk had walked into the Underground’s throne room so many months before.

“I hate to think that the proper course of action risks more bloodshed,” he finally confessed quietly. “I had hoped those days were behind me. But… perhaps you will be able to stop Chara peacefully. If anybody could, it would be you… unless Asriel could magically come back from the dead.”

Asgore chuckled sadly. “But perhaps this is wishful thinking on my part,” he whispered, eyes closed.

A long, somber silence.

Frisk's eyes darted quickly to Flowey, who felt that the temperature in the room had risen all of a sudden. Asgore was over there acting all pathetic, and Flowey couldn't feel compassion, but he was familiar enough with pity.

Ugh. This sealed the deal- they absolutely had to reset afterwards now. Flowey silently mouthed as much to Frisk, who nodded in agreement.

“Hey,” Flowey said quietly to Asgore. “Since it's looking like this timeline’s gonna have to reset pretty soon, I might as well tell you this dumb story. It's about a monster who made a mistake and was killed in an accident, and how that monster ended up coming back to life as a flower…”

\---

And so plans were made. Undyne and the remaining officers/guards sent out a curfew notice for the safety of the people, prohibiting them from entering town square at sundown. Asgore entrusted Flowey and Frisk with their task, and himself went to the police department to discuss the possibility of an official blockade during the affected hours.

Meanwhile, Frisk and Flowey went to a deserted corner of the local library. 

There they started poring through old texts, trying to find info on any kind of magic that could help them now. Frisk retrieved dozens of books for Flowey's perusal, and they made an efficient, if ultimately ineffective team. Human magic had never been nearly as well documented as monster magic, and they failed to find anything remotely close to what they were looking for.

“So is this it?” Flowey said angrily several hours later, staring at a pile of discarded books. “It's really just flat-out impossible to create souls from scratch? That can’t be right!”

“Well, I mean, there's always the old-fashioned way,” Frisk said with a flirty wink.

“No, gross!” Flowey said, face scrunching up. “I'm not talking about THAT! We don't need to create a new soul with a body attached. We just need the soul, that's all! Chara didn't go around randomly killing people like this when they had a soul! Since stealing the soul of a living being for Chara is out of the question, what do we do? There HAS to be some way to do this.”

Frisk thought for a moment. “Alphys said in her lab that recreating souls artificially is impossible. So… maybe we're barking up the wrong tree here.”

Flowey’s jaw set.

“Which is fine! We can probably reason with Chara in some other…” Frisk trailed off.   
Flowey stared sullenly at the books for a long moment.

Frisk looked at Flowey curiously.   
“This isn't just about Chara, is it?”

“Shut up!” Flowey hissed.

Frisk was silent for a moment.  
“If creating new souls is impossible,” Frisk said carefully, “then maybe we need a different solution here. Instead of trying to replace what can't be replaced… maybe we need a way to make do with what we have.”

Flowey bared his teeth. “You can't fix me, Frisk!” he shouted, voice echoing in the deserted room. 

If there had been a librarian anywhere remotely close to the vicinity, they would have gotten in trouble, but luckily it was just the two of them.

“...No. I can't,” Frisk said quietly. “I'll never be able to get to the root of the problem here. I'll never be able to get your soul back, with human magic or otherwise. But you're going to keep existing anyway. How are you gonna go about that?”

“Maybe I SHOULDN'T!” Flowey shrieked, tears burning at the corners of his eyes.

“Wrong answer,” Frisk said seriously. “I know you don't actually want to die. So what are you going to do instead? That's something you're going to have to figure out eventually.”

“I don't know!” Flowey cried out. “By all rights I should be dead, and I don't know why I'm still here! I just can't understand! I'm still here and it hurts and I just want it to stop hurting and if things had gone as planned then it wouldn't hurt… and…I...”

Now he was bawling like a big baby. Geez. He'd always been a big crybaby, and not even losing his soul could change that. If Chara could only see him now! Being all pathetic, with tears making his fur all crusty…

Fur?! Wow, Flowey had REALLY lost his composure if he was making Asriel faces on accident. Served him right.

Now Frisk was hugging his flowerpot again, and that just made him feel even WORSE because it just reminded him how BROKEN he was that he didn't even have the common decency to care about someone like Frisk in any way. 

He could remember being Asriel for that brief moment by the Barrier.   
He could factually remember liking Frisk and wanting to be friends, and feeling some level of friendship and compassion at the time.   
But now he could only remember the bittersweet aftertaste of the feeling itself, and the persistent, gut wrenching reminder that he would never feel it again. 

And the more time that passed, the fainter this memory became  
and the clearer it became that once this ghost of an impression disappeared from him forever  
he would probably go right back to murdering everyone  
just like last time

\---

Frisk didn't say anything. 

Frisk didn't have the words to fix this. 

Frisk didn't have the ability to patch together Flowey's broken hopes and dreams. Maybe nobody did.

All Frisk could do was try to be a friend to Flowey in whatever capacity that was possible. 

It would never be enough.   
But at least it was better than nothing, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	15. Confrontation

It wasn't long before the sun started to go down, filling the library window with reddish light. That meant it was go-time for Frisk and Flowey, so they packed up and left the library.

While walking over to the main square, flowerpot held securely, Frisk asked if Flowey was ready.

“I don't think I ever will be,” Flowey answered honestly. “This is a rare situation where I have no idea what's going to happen here. I could never predict Chara, even on a good day, but this…”

Frisk smiled comfortingly. “For what it's worth, I got through the Underground by improvising. I almost never knew beforehand when I'd be entering a battle, so by comparison I feel like we're well-prepared here.”

Flowey gave a short exhale. “Maybe so.”

Frisk shrugged in a motion that moved Flowey's whole pot.

“You know Chara better than I do,” Frisk said casually. “Are there any childhood weaknesses worth mentioning? Strategic ways to overpower them? Any kind of helpful info at all?”

If Flowey had more time, he could probably come up with a list, but when asked on the spur of the moment like this, his mind blanked out.  
He gave a kind of shrugging motion. “Not that immediately come to mind. Sorry.”

Frisk snorted. “Worth a shot. I guess we'll just have to wing it, then!”

\---

A short while later, Flowey and Frisk waited in the town’s main square.

Frisk stood determinedly, holding a sturdy stick with a shaky hand. Flowey sprouted between the cobblestone rocks of the main square, staring out into the distance, watching sharply for Chara. He would never admit to it, of course, but he was shaking, too.

What was it Frisk had said when they were both leaving the library? “We'll just have to wing it," or something. Boy, that would be a great thing to engrave on their tombstones after this! Neither of them had any idea what they were doing. But hopefully they were doing some good. Only one way to find out.

The town square was silent, save for the trickling of a water fountain in the center, surrounded by a huge circular flowerbed. The light of sunset gleamed on the surface of the water, tingeing the old wooden buildings with amber and gold. This was the place he had laid Chara's dead body so long ago, before all the screaming started and everything had gone south. It was strange to be back after all this time. Nothing had changed, yet everything had changed.

As the sun plunged ever deeper into the sky, Flowey began to wonder if Chara would even show up. But as the last glimmers of the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, a stark red light flashed in a nearby alleyway before fading into a familiar figure. 

“Chara,” Flowey whispered.

Chara grinned, dressed in a sweater that looked very much like Frisk's (since that green and yellow sweater had been left on Toriel's doorstep, Flowey remembered), with cheeks as rosy now in death as they were in life. Chara's eyes were wide and dark and empty, shining like black beetles in the light of dusk.

“So you finally heard my call.”

Chara's high-pitched voice was smooth and deliberate, every syllable planned and carefully executed. It was slick like blood, precise like the blade of a knife, and fleeting like a scattering of dust in the wind.

“Chara, stop this,” Frisk said seriously, voice low and a little shaky. “Whatever you're trying to accomplish, this won't help anything.”

Chara laughed, a tinkling noise like broken glass. “You could never pretend to guess what I want. You could never hope to understand.”

“You want a SOUL,” Flowey shouted, voice echoing in the quiet square.

Chara's grin faded.

“Asriel, stay out of this. It does not concern you.”

Flowey’s jaw clenched. He was done taking orders from Chara.

“You want a SOUL because you think it'll fill that void inside you. Because you think you can be HAPPY with one.”

“Shut up,” Chara said, voice dangerously low.

“But it'll never be enough, will it?” Flowey cried out. “One SOUL won't be enough to make up for what you lost, and it won't be enough to make you happy, so you'll keep going! You'll keep killing monsters and humans so you can try to absorb their souls to fill that void!”

“I said SHUT UP!” Chara bellowed. The air crackled with red static.

“You can't win this. You can't be happy by making others unhappy. Please stop this,” Frisk pleaded, clutching that stick with two hands now, voice laced with desperation.

Chara took a deep breath…  
and suddenly lunged with a stained pocketknife. 

Frisk caught the blade in the crook of the stick and twisted; the knife flew from Chara's grasp and clattered to the ground several feet away. Chara’s eyes went wide.

Chara scrambled for the knife, but Flowey got there first and sent it sailing into the air with a vine.

Flowey expected Chara to be angry, but was met with a cold, wide-eyed stare instead. Then Chara leapt towards Flowey, hands bared like claws, but Flowey burrowed and sprouted away.

As long as Frisk and Flowey didn't engage Chara in an official battle, there wasn't much out of the ordinary that Chara could pull. Some theatrics with red light, and maybe a reset upon death. But the fighting tactics Flowey was seeing now were so, so familiar to Chara's occasional tantrum back in the Underground.

Chara ran in the direction of the knife, leg limping in a way that was noticeable and familiar. Hmm. Flowey stuck out his tongue, aimed, and flailed a vine at Chara's injured leg.

“OOF!” Chara grunted and hit the ground face-first, ankle bound by a tangle of vines. Frisk ran over and sat on Chara's back.

“GET OFF OF ME,” Chara roared. The earth seemed to shake in response to these words, but despite it all, Chara was still a kid bound by the laws of physics, and Frisk probably had more than a few pounds on Chara. All that butterscotch-cinnamon pie was paying off, and Chara's frame was all skin and bones anyway.

“No!” Frisk cried out. “I won't do it! You'll just go back to hurting people!”

Chara sat there seething for several seconds, hand straining against Frisk's grip, playing with the sleeves of that stolen sweater.

No, playing with something SILVER in the sweater…!

“Frisk! Chara's right hand!” Flowey screamed, but Frisk was too slow, and Chara produced a second blade. Flowey tangled up the knife handle with a vine, but the knife twisted and suddenly the vines fell away in pieces. Flowey cried out.

Another twist of the knife, and Frisk cried out next, hands bleeding SOUL-red.

Chara's face filled with an inhuman grin. This person was so unlike Chara, it was astonishing. Chara had never delighted in the torment of a living thing. Before, killing had always been a necessary duty, or a product of anger and clouded judgment- never a leisurely pastime.

In fact, Flowey couldn't think of anyone who thought of suffering that way... besides himself. If Flowey could be so different from Asriel, then that helped explain why Chara without a SOUL was so different from the Chara he had grown up with.

Frisk dodged Chara's slashes with expert accuracy, but it was clear they were all running out of steam. Someone needed to do something to end this, and FAST.

Flowey cowered behind the water fountain while Frisk dealt with Chara. There had to be a way out of this. Frisk couldn't keep dodging forever.

Then Flowey got an idea.

“Frisk!” He called out. “It's time.”

Frisk looked confused for a second before dawning with realization.

“I can't do it anymore, Frisk! It has to be you!”

Frisk cringed while dodging, but seemed to try to focus on something far away in the distance.

Chara saw an opening and took it.

Frisk shrieked.

“Frisk, you have to do this!” Flowey shouted. He tried to trip Chara again, but the trick didn't work a second time and Chara slashed at his vines in response.

Frisk was shaking like a leaf. “I can't do it! It won't let me! Why won't it let me?”

“That would be me,” Chara snarled.

So Frisk and Chara were canceling each other out, then. Interesting.

“Do you really think I would let you reset at a time like this?” Chara called out. “Of course not. You failed to hold up your end of the bargain. Now you must suffer the consequences to your ill-advised choice.”

Then Chara began a rapid series of slashes. Some Frisk dodged, others not. Flowey's eyes got wide. The two humans were a blur of blue and purple, and he wanted to step in, but he couldn't be sure which one was who from this angle.

“I can't do it,” Frisk whimpered, looking pretty badly hurt. A monster in that condition would have given up and disintegrated already. Either humans really WERE that much sturdier than monsters, or Frisk was holding on with sheer determination.

Then Flowey got an idea.

“One more time!” Flowey called out. Hands shaking like leaves, a heavily injured Frisk tried resetting again, screaming out in the process. Flowey could feel the universe trembling under Chara's stranglehold on it, but Frisk had the power to move heaven and earth if need be. They were equal matches for each other in the determination department.

This tug of war would continue indefinitely until Frisk gave out…

...Or somebody intervened.

Flowey launched an inescapable ring of friendliness pellets at his oldest, best friend.

The pellets bounced off Chara, doing no apparent harm.

Chara grinned sadistically, eyes wide, before disappearing.

The universe lurched a little in Frisk's favor, but not nearly enough to permit a reset.

“What are you DOING???” Frisk squealed. “Have you lost your mind? Why would you DO THAT?!?!” Frisk was screaming now, tears streaming down their face.

“Me? I'm just stepping in,” Flowey said with a trademark grin.

Then Chara appeared behind Flowey.

“..y o u i d i o t …” Flowey whispered under his breath.

Slash.

Slash.

Slash.

Slash.

Slash.

SLASH

Flowey fluttered to the ground in pieces.

Frisk screamed.

The fabric of reality distorted.

Chara's dark eyes grew to wide pits on their face. Something dark and oozing spilled from them.

Frisk's eyes went very wide as the air filled with red static.

Then the air filled with an unspeakable noise, overpowering and loud, sounding almost like distorted laughter. 

Suddenly the very air around them began to splinter apart and reality curled in on itself like an imploding star.

The last thing anybody heard was Frisk's desperate screaming before everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...


	16. Coaxing

The default medium of the universe must be empty space. Here matter decayed into void, and empty silence pervaded all. This void was a place Frisk knew well from interacting with Chara, and an abyss that Flowey knew only from his brushes with death.

And yet somewhere in the recesses of Flowey's mind, a memory looped endlessly, like the nearly forgotten tune of an old music box.

\---

In a different time and place, a flower grew in an abandoned Underground.

“Someone has to take care of these flowers,” he had said some weeks prior before everyone had left, but that wasn’t really the truth, was it? It was an excuse, a feeble attempt at staving off a course of events he would prefer to avoid. 

The truth of the matter was that his unlimited stores of power had all but dried up when he released those souls, leaving him with their mere residue- an echo of his former glory. This residue of power had allowed him to maintain his form (his TRUE form) for a little while afterwards, until he realized that he had almost completely exhausted his remaining energy. Rather than squander it away trying to be something he wasn’t anymore, he allowed himself to revert to his flower form, and tucked the remaining energy away deep within himself. He knew there might come a day when he would need it.

He also deeply hoped that day would never come.

All of the monsters slowly but surely departed from the Underground, eager to explore the world of the Surface. He didn’t allow himself to join them. He didn’t know if he was Flowey or Asriel anymore, and didn’t care to find out the hard way. Self- imposed solitary confinement was a simple way to prevent idle homicide from happening again.

In the course of his timeline experimentation, he had played all of the monsters of the Underground like coin-operated machines. He had put happy coins, sad coins, and death coins into all of them, and knew the basics of how they worked with each other in different circumstances. He didn’t need to go to the Surface to guess how everyone was doing; he could predict well enough without seeing it firsthand. The Surface was too stabby and pointy for his tastes, anyhow.

He was fine. Really.

Then one day, Frisk came by for a visit. He could hear the footsteps from five rooms away, and while he was certainly baffled, he wasn’t too incredibly shellshocked when Frisk walked in.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, frowning in confusion. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”  
“Nope!” Frisk had said cheerfully. “That’s what you said last time when you wanted to get rid of me. And I fell for it then. But this time, I actually have nothing better I could be doing right now.”  
“Oh,” he had said blankly. “How did you even get here?”  
“Rode my bike.”  
“Mmm.” There was nothing more to say.

“Hey,” Frisk said with a gentle smile. “Have you come up to see the Surface yet?”  
“Been there, done that,” he had said grumpily. Maybe, just MAYBE, if he was especially unforthcoming, Frisk would take the hint and change the subject.

“Oh come on!” Frisk said easily. “There’s some pretty nice stuff up there. Like the sun and the sky. And the trees are all changing color because it’s autumn, and the sunsets are the most beautiful things in the world.”

He stared bitterly at the wall.

“You could come take a look,” Frisk offered gently.  
“No,” he said bluntly.  
“Just like that?” Frisk said with a sad smile. “You’re not tempted? Not even a little bit?”  
“No,” he said, a little quieter. This was the truth.

“I won’t try to make you,” Frisk said, nodding understandingly. “If you ever change your mind, I’d be happy to help, though. A lot of the surface is soil that you could burrow through, but a lot of it’s concrete and asphalt and houses and stuff. You might not be able to get everywhere on your own, but I’d be happy to take you around in a flower pot to show you the rest. If you wanted, you could even stay at home with me! You could stay in a flower pot or in the garden, and it’d be like going home, and you’d get to see your Mom-”

He flinched, face turning stony.

“...Sorry,” Frisk squeaked. “I won’t talk about her anymore.”

“It’s fine,” he lied.

“My point is,” Frisk said while tracing aimlessly in the dirt, “that the surface isn’t all bad. It seems like you didn’t get a very warm welcome when you came before, and as a human who comes from the surface, I guess I feel kinda bad. Also, I don’t know how much fun you can be having down here all by yourself.”

“That’s not the point,” he grunted.

“Okay, then what is?” Frisk shrugged. “I mean, you’re gonna keep existing either way. Would you rather exist down here all alone and unhappy, or on the surface where you might have a shot at liking life a little more?”

He stared at the ground for a long moment.  
“Why are you doing this, Frisk?” His voice sounded tired and a little bit sad. “Why are you… being so nice to me?”

Frisk thought for a moment.   
“Because someone once told me it's not a happy ending unless everybody leaves the Underground satisfied,” Frisk said with a shrug. “Or maybe because you seem unhappy, and you deserve to be happy just like anyone else. Or because you're my friend and I want to help you. There are a lot of reasons, I guess.”

“Just… get out of here,” he said sadly. “There's nothing you can do here. You can't fix me.”

Frisk seemed to contemplate what to do next, face scrunched up in thought. The two sat there in silence like that for a long moment.

Then he started having second thoughts.

It would probably be completely selfish of him to leave the Underground and endanger everyone because he was bored. After all, that was how he got into trouble last time. But then Flowey came to an interesting realization: he didn’t care. 

That was how he knew he was back to being Flowey again, not Asriel. Because he was back to putting his own interests above those of others. It wasn’t like he’d be truly happy either way, anyway. He’d been robbed of that chance long ago. So he might as well try to make the best of what he had left.

Eventually Frisk sighed quietly and started to walk away, but Flowey stopped them.  
“Hey,” he mumbled.

Frisk turned around curiously.

“If I come with you…” he posed hesitantly, “you have to promise that you will never, ever tell anyone about my identity. Cross your heart, hope to die, because I promise I will kill you if you do.”

Frisk made a heart-crossing gesture. “In return, just maybe don’t tell anyone about my… subpar decision making,” Frisk said, cringing.

Flowey nodded. “Alright. You got yourself a deal.”

\---

Why had he gone to the surface with Frisk, anyway?

It was easy to come up with reasons to stay underground. It was easy to stay in the Ruins, where he wouldn't have to struggle with making good choices, or ever have to face his parents again. It was easy to stay there and pretend he didn't exist, to wait until he faded away and everyone moved on without him, like they probably should have done already.

If he stayed underground for his whole life, he was as good as dead. He’d be with Chara and everything would be as it should be.

But Frisk was right; Flowey didn't want to die. 

He wanted to live.

As a result, what had to happen next wasn't even a choice so much as a reflex, a primal instinct towards self preservation kicking in at long last.

Flowey RESET.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...!  
>  that's certain to be a decision with some interesting consequences!
> 
> (http://rootoftheproblem.tumblr.com/)  
> (click the link if you like comic versions of fanfictions)


	17. Cavern

Flowey woke up back in the living room of Toriel’s house. Going by the lack of light from the window beside him, it must be really late at night. The house was nearly silent, and the clock on the wall was indecipherable, cloaked in soft shadows.

Flowey thought for a moment, before he suddenly started laughing, and laughing and laughing. He had done it. He had finally bested Chara at something.

Frisk walked into the room a few minutes later to see Flowey doubled over in bellyfuls of laughter, high pitched and raucous and… not even particularly malicious, just spirited. But Frisk paid it no mind, and instead went right up and lifted Flowey’s pot.

“Hush before Mom hears you!” Frisk shout-whispered at Flowey. 

Flowey didn’t stop laughing, so Frisk slipped on some shoes really fast and quietly ducked through the front door. Toriel was a pretty sound sleeper, but even she had her limits. So instead Frisk set Flowey’s pot on the front yard and sat cross-legged a few feet away.

“Okay, now you explain yourself! What the flying heck were you THINKING?!” Frisk said in a loud, hoarse voice, actually looking angry for the first time that Flowey could recall in recent memory.

Flowey’s laughter eventually died down, but the wide grin didn’t leave his face for an instant. 

“I finally predicted Chara!” he cried out in glee. “I knew that I could get Chara to disappear by attacking, and I was right! And I figured that by doing it, I could distract Chara from you, and I was right!”

“You got yourself KILLED!!” Frisk shrieked tearfully. “I stood there and WATCHED IT HAPPEN!”

“I know, right??” Flowey laughed. “Isn’t it great?”

“No, it’s not! You had me worried SICK about you!” Frisk’s fists were tiny clenched balls, shaking with distress. “And now you’re not even taking it seriously! I thought the whole UNIVERSE was ending!”

Flowey chuckled a little bit. “Frisk, I had it all planned out. You and Chara were canceling each other out with determination. Chara had knives and you didn’t, and you were losing steam. We were in a sticky spot, so I did what I thought would work best- I reset!”

Frisk stared at Flowey furiously, obviously still not getting it.

“But don't forget,” Flowey explained patiently, “in order for me to reset, I have to bring myself to the brink of death.”

Now Frisk stared in horror.

“Don’t you see?” Flowey shouted gleefully. “It was all on purpose! I thought I could get Chara to do it, and it WORKED!”

Frisk’s hands started shaking even worse. “Don’t you ever do a-anything like that ever again, you hear me?” Frisk barked at him in fury... with an undertone of something else. Relief? Concern?

Love?

“Well, I certainly hope I don’t have to!” Flowey laughed. “But it got us out of a tight spot, so I think it worked out pretty well!”

Frisk took a deep breath, and then another one.

“But... it’s not over yet, is it?” Flowey pointed out quietly. “Chara’s still out there.”

“I think so,” Frisk moaned, head cradled in one hand. “Man, I… I got such awful flashbacks during that whole thing. Seeing everything disappear like that… it reminded me of when I met Chara, and…”

“After I died in THAT timeline?” Flowey wondered.

“...Yeah,” Frisk said quietly. “And Chara made that same awful laughter, and everything was full of flashing red, and then everything blew up and melted away into that same VOID and I…” Frisk made a small whimpering sound and curled up into a little ball.

“Yeah, I don’t know what happened there,” Flowey said, biting his lip. “Usually a reset makes everything lurch like that, but it’s not usually so loud and red. That must have been Chara.”

Frisk’s eyes squished shut. “I… I think Chara tried to destroy the world just now. In that timeline, Chara couldn’t do it until after you were dead, and probably figured the same rules applied here. Without you in the way, and already knowing that I couldn’t stop anyone from destroying the world…”

“Or maybe you did?” Flowey wondered. “Maybe our combined determination to SAVE the world outweighed Chara’s determination to KILL it.”

That made Frisk smile a little bit.

“Where are we, anyway?” Flowey asked. “Or maybe WHEN are we. Did you make a save point or something?”

“This isn’t one of mine,” Frisk said, sounding confused. “It’s the middle of the night. I’m always asleep right now… Wait a second… I have a cell phone!”

Frisk pulled out a cell phone. The cell phone revealed the time and date.

Frisk and Flowey’s eyes went very wide.

“Today’s… the day the murders start,” Flowey realized. “The day that Sans woke us up in the middle of the night, and we went to investigate the… Gee, I bet we woke up at one of Chara’s save points, didn't we?

Frisk took a deep breath.

“Okay, we’re going to have to act fast," Frisk muttered, eyes closed in concentration. “When Sans got to the house last week, he said the machine had gone off an hour ago. Then it took us a half hour to drive up to Mt. Ebott before we hiked for who knows how long to get to the start of the Ruins. That gives us about an hour and a half, maybe two hours before everyone gets there.”

“Gets where??” Flowey cried out. “Frisk, you’re not making any sense!”

Frisk stared at Flowey for a second.

“To Chara.”

Flowey’s eyes went wide. “You can’t be serious. Not after what we JUST--”

“No, think about it!” Frisk said seriously. “We know right where Chara is for the next two hours. And Chara won’t have been able to get any weapons. We can stop all the murders right now, before they happen.”

Ohh.

“But we have to move FAST,” Frisk said emphatically. “If mom or dad or Sans catches us, game over. If we get to the Underground too late, Chara kills everyone anyway.”

“Well, what are we waiting around here for?” Flowey cried out. “Let’s get a move on!”

\---

So Frisk put on some street clothes, grabbed a bike helmet and backpack, and started biking like mad towards Mt. Ebott.

Flowey bounced around in Frisk’s backpack, having a little bit of a rough ride of it. Frisk had offered to let him out if he wanted to burrow along instead, but going back in time had put him back in that cruddy little pot with the tiny hearts, and he knew his atrophied roots didn’t have the stamina to keep up the pace for as long as it would take to bike all the way there. All things considered, this was better. Bumpier, but better.

“How long is it gonna take to bike there?” Flowey shouted at Frisk over the wind. Trees and fences raced by in the background.  
“About 30 minutes,” Frisk called back.  
“Wait, what?” Flowey shouted. “Frisk, you can’t bike as fast as a car, and it took Papyrus a half hour to get there.”

“We’re not going where Papyrus took us,” Frisk replied, but wouldn’t elaborate on that point any further.

Frisk’s route took them east towards the mountains, same as Papyrus’s, but a lot further north. Instead of the lazy flat streets of Papyrus's route, it went along a stiff uphill road that Frisk suffered through for a while before finally walking the bike up the hill. They actually came within a few blocks of Asgore’s house at one point.

Then it was through a lot of quiet neighborhoods, lit by old-fashioned lamp posts and starlight. It was too early (too late?) outside for there to be many people out and about, and the ride was uneventful (apart from being really long).

Eventually, the little suburban houses became sparser and sparser before giving way to mountainous vegetation, green and blooming in the spring weather. Papyrus’s route had taken them along a well-paved road through a well-trafficked valley south of Mt. Ebott, leading to a well-maintained hiking trail to the exit in New Home. Frisk’s route, on the other hand, went along the north side of the mountain, to an area that appeared to have not been visited for many years. As the houses disappeared entirely, the street gradually turned into a dirt road, which eventually became little more than an unbikable hiking path.

Frisk ditched the bike and helmet unceremoniously to the ground and removed Flowey from that awful backpack. Then, guided by the light of a cell phone flashlight, Frisk carried Flowey's pot along the path as the way ahead all but disappeared into thick vegetation.

“Frisk, it’s pretty dark out,” Flowey said cautiously. “And Mt. Ebott is covered in sinkholes. Are you sure about this?”

Frisk laughed. “I guess you could say I know this area pretty well. Don’t worry.”

And it was true. Frisk expertly sidestepped and hopped over a few treacherous pits in the path like they were nothing-- as though Frisk already knew they were there. 

The path eventually led to a narrow bottleneck. Sheer cliff faces met in a passage six feet across, joined by a tall barbed wire fence labeled with a huge sign:

DO NOT ENTER

“Hang on a sec,” Frisk said before kicking off both shoes. “Hey, you can just burrow under the fence, right? We can come back for your pot later.”

“Well, yeah, but what about you?” Flowey asked.

“Go on. I’ll meet you on the other side,” Frisk said, putting Flowey’s pot on the ground.

“Okay…” Flowey exited the pot and sprouted on the other side of the fence.

Then Frisk hurled both shoes over the fence; they landed inches away from Flowey and gave him a bit of a scare. Not that he screamed or anything! That would be pretty wimpy of him. Of course he wouldn't scream at a pair of shoes appearing inches from his face all of a sudden in the dead of night… heh.

Frisk started climbing the barbed wire fence, cell phone in mouth to light the way, hands moving swiftly and surely. Progress was surprisingly fast, but the barbed wire fence was formidable, and the top several inches were tipped with sharp wire to prevent people from climbing over with it.

As Frisk ascended, the fence began to shake, and Flowey began to worry about Frisk’s safety. This did not look like a good idea, and he did not want to face Chara alone.

Frisk, however, was undeterred, and reached the top of the fence with relative ease. Then, Frisk reached out behind to the branch of a tree that Flowey hadn’t noticed in the darkness, and then climbed up a few more branches to get over the rest of the fence. Flowey could see Frisk feeling for footholds in the rough bark; it was kind of cool to watch. It was clear that if Frisk was much older or heavier, the branches would have snapped under Frisk’s weight, and passage would have been impossible. Maybe that’s why nobody else had dared try to get past the fence before.

Then Frisk grabbed onto a descending branch and gracefully dropped over to Flowey’s side of the fence, sticking the landing with a satisfying THUD.

Frisk grinned and took a bow. Flowey had heard once that humans were descended from monkeys or something. Right then, he believed it. He couldn’t give a thumbs up or applaud, so he settled for a nod of approval.

“Where from here?” Flowey asked.

“Follow me,” Frisk said. Flowey burrowed along after Frisk on the dark path.

Now that he was free in the ground, he could sense the dense vegetation with his roots, and was impressed at how old it was. Some of this stuff had been around for AGES- maybe even since before monsterkind had been imprisoned underground! There was hardly a place to sprout in some spots, making navigation tricky, but it wasn't too hard to keep up with Frisk, who was prodding the ground with each step in case of sinkholes and moving slowly as a result.

“Gotta be honest, I made this trip during daylight last time,” Frisk said offhandedly after several minutes of hiking. 

Huh? When had Frisk…

Then Frisk squeezed through a narrow crack in the mountain face, and Flowey understood.

Frisk and Flowey now stood in front of a massive pit in the ground. A huge root protruded from the ground a few perilous inches from the edge; Flowey knew it had caused a great deal of strife over the years.

“You took a short cut,” Flowey said, his eyes narrowing a bit as he chuckled. “I bet this is the spot where you fell in, isn't it?”

“It seemed sensible,” Frisk said with a shrug before reaching into a side pocket of the backpack and pulling out a length of knotted rope. “Faster and easier to take the route straight to Chara rather than going the long way around. Flowey, can you get down yourself?”

“Piece of cake,” Flowey said, sounding more confident than he felt. He wasn't exactly thrilled to see what waited for him at the bottom.

"You ready?" Frisk asked Flowey.

Flowey's jaw set, and he stared at the ground. "What are we even going to do when we get down there?"

Frisk considered. "I dunno. Depends what we find down there. We'll probably have to improvise a bit, but we'll figure it out. Ideally, we can just talk to Chara and stop all of this that way. But I bet it won't be that easy, and I'm prepared to do what I have to do."

Flowey thought of the energy from the Barrier. He wondered if he would have the strength to use it against Chara if it came to it.

Then Frisk looped the rope around the root by the hole’s edge, and began to rappel down into the dark hole.  
"Time to finish this," Flowey said, burrowing into the ground.

A distant wind blew in the mountain air.  
Moonlight filtered through the night sky.  
Frisk and Flowey were filled with DETERMINATION.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now the real battle begins haha
> 
> the next chapter is going to need a lot of TLC. i am determined to do this right, so if it goes up a little late, that is why. it will be worth the wait. this i swear. (i'll try to keep it prompt tho)


	18. Chara

After a slow climb down the pit, Frisk and Flowey reached the bottom. 

The cavern was the same as ever- rocky and dark, with ancient pillars built into the walls, engraved with vines. The sun had barely risen and now cast the very beginnings of a cold dawn into the hole, granting a tiny amount of light to the gloomy cave.

Frisk’s footsteps echoed in the vast cavern, filling the still air with idle noise. Both Flowey and Frisk looked around the cavern for Chara, but to no avail.

“Chara?” Flowey called out. His voice took on an unusually saccharine tone- no, an unusually Asriel-like tone. Ugh.

“Are you here?” Frisk called out, voice shaky. No response.

Then Flowey made an important realization:  
“Frisk, Chara’s grave hasn’t been turned up.” 

It was true; the center of the room was filled with a small patch of flowers, undisturbed by Chara or anyone else.

“Wait… but…” Frisk’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Then where’s… Something isn’t right here.”

Flowey sprouted near the patch of flowers. In his many runs through various timelines, he had never closely examined this particular patch of flowers before. But now he closed his eyes and searched, stretching out his roots into the depths of the earth as far as he could. His roots were still atrophied from that awful flowerpot, and his range suffered as a result. But even with his diminished strength, he could easily feel Chara's form buried just beneath the surface of the cavern floor.

It was SQUIRMING.

“Chara's still buried!” Flowey squeaked, eyes wide. Frisk stiffened as though splashed by a bucket of cold water, and stood frozen to the spot.

“Don't just stand there!” Flowey yelled out. “Can you dig or something? I mean, don't humans need air to breathe?”

That got Frisk's attention. While Flowey tried to loosen the soil with a web of vines (gently so as not to hurt Chara), Frisk dug around in the backpack, eventually producing... a metal spoon. Well, it was better than nothing.

Chara's grave was luckily quite shallow. Between Flowey's vines, Frisk's digging, and Chara's own struggling, it didn't take long to make an opening for air to get through.

Then Frisk set to work widening the hole, but didn’t get very far before Chara's head and shoulders suddenly burst from the ground, knocking Frisk backwards and scattering soil and flowers everywhere. Still half- buried, Chara sat up in the ground and took several long deep breaths, filling lungs that seemed to creak and shudder from disuse. 

From a distance in the square, Chara had seemed terrifying-- like an avenging demon with an incomprehensible power, full of red static and flashing knives. But now, up close like this without any knives around, Chara looked pale, and thin, and undeniably human. The air was not filled with red static now-- only the sound of deep coughing and shuddering breaths remained, haunting and quiet and fragile. Flowey felt a little sad seeing this display. The Chara he liked to remember was so full of passion and life, but this Chara… this Chara was all but a corpse already.

Frisk grabbed a water bottle from the backpack and offered it to Chara, but Chara's head shook once, sharply.

“You don't look so good,” Frisk said, eyes wide with concern. “You should drink someth-”

“STOP THIS,” Chara hissed, voice rough and scratchy. “I tried to kill you. You can drop the act. Quit pretending you don't want me dead.”

Frisk flinched, obviously wounded by that remark. “It's… I'm not…”

“You won,” Chara snarled, face smudged with dirt and partially shrouded by clumps of tangled brown hair. “You should not have come back. Things aren't supposed to go this way.”

“Well, the way they went last time wasn't exactly super!” Frisk blurted out.

“You know what must happen next,” Chara said hoarsely before coughing loudly for several seconds. “If I escape the Underground, I will get my LOVE back, and with it my strength. And then I will finish what we started. But I take it this is not acceptable to you anymore?”

Frisk's eyes flashed.

“Then you must know why I am here,” Chara said in a low voice. “We made a deal. You gave your SOUL to resurrect the world. Then you went back on your end of the deal. I came here to go back on mine.”

Frisk's hands started shaking.

“You think you are above consequences,” Chara spat. “The rules that hold so rigidly for everyone else… You think you can keep or break them at your will, and leave others to deal with the mess you make.”

Frisk's eyes welled with tears.

“Those rules bind Asriel and me,” Chara said quietly, venomously. “We have suffered from the consequences of our choice. But you do not.”

Flowey stiffened, but said nothing.

“I can't fix you,” Frisk whispered. “I can't fix you, and I can't fix Flowey. I've tried. I'm just one kid. I can't.”

“Perhaps you can,” Chara murmured. “Simply fulfill your side of the bargain. Give me your…”

Frisk took a step back.

Chara chuckled bitterly. “That's what I thought.”

Frisk's hands clenched into tiny, shaky fists. “I...I'm sorry,” Frisk said.

“I cannot blame you,” Chara said, voice hollow. “In your position, I would have done the same.”

Frisk's eyes closed.

“Please,” Chara whispered, barely even audible. “If you will not allow me to do that… Then please bring this folly to its end. I should not be here. I no longer want to be here. Not like this. Please end me and end my suffering.”

“No! I… I'm not gonna kill you!” Frisk said, head shaking back and forth, hard. “Never again. I promised.”

“You misunderstand,” Chara said in a precise, hollow tone. “I am not asking for you to fight. I am asking you for MERCY.”

Chara's voice cracked on that last word.

Silence filled the cavern for a moment that felt like an eternity.

Flowey watched on helplessly. For the first time in a very long time, he had no idea what to do. All this time, he had imagined that Chara might have come back without a soul, just as he had, and that together they might find a way to hang in there. But if Chara couldn’t abide this condition, and if Chara had always been so much stronger than him… How could anybody expect Flowey… to...

Tears streamed freely down Frisk's face. Frisk seemed to struggle inwardly, on the one hand refusing to believe that death could be the best path for ANYONE, but on the other remembering a few desolate moments without a SOUL, and being wholly unable to inflict that fate on somebody.

Chara's eyes were wide and desperate, but also tired and filled with despair. Flowey recognized the expression- it was the same one that Chara had worn at the bottom of the pit, so long long ago, during the first time they had met. Here they were in the same place so much later, and now Chara's eyes pleaded not for life, but for the release of death.

Frisk’s lips pursed.

“Can I tell you a story?” Frisk asked Chara quietly. Chara said nothing.

“It’s about a kid who came to the Underground,” Frisk continued. “Once upon a time, that kid had a family, and was loved. But then there was a terrible accident, and that kid didn’t have a family anymore. That kid was going to be sent away, but that wasn’t acceptable. So the kid climbed a fence, hoping to hide on a mountain forever, and would never have to leave.”

Chara stared intently, listening to every word. Flowey had to admit he was doing the same.

“Pretty soon that kid found a hole,” Frisk said, smiling sadly at the memory. “That kid was really sad, and wanted to join all their family members that had gone to heaven. So that kid jumped down that hole, hoping never to wake up again.”

Chara breathed in sharply.

“But that didn’t happen,” Frisk said, eyes closed. “Instead, the kid woke up on a bed of flowers in a world of monsters. And the kid realized that death was probably not all it was cracked up to be, and found a new determination to get home, and to see the sky again.”

Now Frisk smiled nostalgically. “Then, after a long journey and a lot of hard work, that kid found a new family. And that new family would never make up for the old family that was gone, but things don’t have to go back to the way they were in order to be okay in their own way. And growing up means that things change sometimes, but it’s better than never growing at all. That kid learned to grow, even when it was hard, and was better off for it.”

Flowey blinked several times, processing what he had just heard.

“But your story is only one story,” Chara said, staring at the ground. “There are other stories. A child who got lost on a hike, and waited to be found but never was. A child who stood up to someone dangerous, and who started running away and never stopped. A child who ran up the mountains to hide from responsibility. A child who stubbornly ran off to find a friend. A child who wandered off on a camping trip, looking for supplies to help another. A child who went exploring after losing a bet, and refusing to chicken out.”

Flowey recognized those stories. He had felt them instinctively when he had possessed the souls of those six humans. Chara had probably felt them as, one by one, those children had landed on Chara's grave.

“And… a child who tripped into a hole one day,” Chara said slowly, quietly. “Legends said that those who entered the mountain would never return, but no HUMAN had ever disappeared before- only monsters. It was just a story. It was supposed to be just a story.”

Frisk’s jaw dropped slightly.

Chara breathed sharply, eyes closed. “The child was angry and felt unloved, and so ran up into the mountains one day. Someone- no, a lot of people- had said and done some terrible things, and the child got angry, learned to hate people, and ran away. The child probably would have gone back home eventually, but tripped into a hole and got hurt instead. But it was okay, because the child was rescued by a friend, and eventually found a new family there-- a family of monsters. 

“As the child learned what had happened to the monsters, what the child’s species had done to them, the child grew even angrier. This was an injustice. The humans needed to be punished for their misdeeds. They needed to be hurt the way that all these monsters had been hurt. And the child was determined to make sure it happened that way.”

Flowey took a deep breath. He remembered Chara talking about that sometimes. It had been the driving motivation behind…

“I had an idea,” Chara continued, forsaking the pretense of narrative structure. “I planned with my brother to cross the Barrier and punish them, and save the entire monster kingdom in the process. Humans had done this evil thing, and they hurt enough of each other all on their own, so I rationalized that it would be okay to kill a few of them for a noble cause. They had hurt me, they had hurt my new family, and now it was time for me to hurt them. I was ready.”

Chara took a deep breath before croaking out, “But our plan failed. He -- Asriel -- wasn’t ready to go through with it. I tried to wrestle control away from him; I wanted to use our full power. I wanted to hurt all of them so much. But... None of them knew I was in there. They saw my dead body and simply tried to protect one of their own.”

Frisk knelt down, eyes filled with a deep sorrow.

“And the more I think of that critical moment…” Chara’s eyes welled with what seemed like tears. “...the more I think that maybe, to some miniscule extent, I was loved all along. And maybe… maybe I was mistaken to hate humanity so much. We were all responsible for what happened to monsters, but maybe there might still be some good ones here and there.”

Silence.

“But I’m not one of them,” Chara breathed, voice thin. “I was angry and resentful. I lashed out unjustly at those who I thought had wronged me, and continued to hurt others after I died. I could not bear the thought of continuing to exist, so I picked off weaker monsters to regain my strength, sought to destroy all of humanity in retribution, and even ended all of reality around me... All in a vain attempt to find peace.”

Chara's eyes squished shut, and a small silence filled the cavern.

“To tell the truth, I want nothing more than another chance to be alive, and to go home and eat butterscotch-cinnamon pie as though none of this ever happened.” Chara laughed bitterly, remorsefully. “But I made my choice long ago, and I understand that this can never be. Nevertheless, continuing as I have has become unbearable. Please. Help me find peace. Help me rest.”

A longer silence.

Frisk's head bowed. Chara and Flowey looked up.

Frisk clasped that old stick in one hand, grip steady. Frisk's face was solemn and serious, but also hopeful that in doing what needed to be done, things would be better.

Chara's eyes fluttered closed. Was that… a smile of relief? Would Chara really so readily welcome death, after fighting so badly to get here? Was this truly the end?

Frisk took a step forward.

This couldn't be the end.

“Stop.”

Frisk looked at Flowey. Chara’s eyes squeezed tightly.

“Chara...I bet you can only remember the hurt, can't you?” Flowey said curiously, sprouting closer to Chara. With Chara still half in the ground like this, the two of them were at eye level again, after all this time. Chara stared with wide eyes.

Flowey stared back earnestly. “I don't have a SOUL anymore. And since monster souls are made of love and compassion, I can't feel either of those anymore. Positive emotions like happiness are hard for me, too.”

Chara said nothing.

“I can remember anger, though. And fear and guilt.” Flowey gave a small sigh. “It's easy for me to get swallowed up in them. But… you can't feel those either, can you?”

Chara still said nothing, but now looked down. Tears bubbled at the corners of Chara's eyes briefly before being blinked away coldly.

Flowey bit his lip. “Maybe souls are what lets humans feel ANY kind of emotion. Happiness, sadness, anger, fear- any of them. If I were to guess, I would guess that you can't really feel any of those anymore, which leaves you with only pain, and the frustration of not remembering why you feel that way.” Flowey gave a short, bitter laugh. “You’re left with the incessant echoes of sentimentality, ripped from their original sense of meaning.” 

Chara stared slack jawed back at him, eyes wide and wet and more vulnerable than Flowey had ever seen before. That expression told Flowey that he had hit the mark.

Here Flowey looked away. “I know how that feels. I live with those echoes of love and compassion every day. It's like drowning in a huge salty ocean and dying of thirst, and it doesn't matter how much WATER there is around you, it's never enough-- it's just suffocating. Or like being alone and cold in a blizzard forever, knowing that the blizzard will never ever stop, and being helpless to do anything about it. And it’s the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. Worse than being alone, worse than being a flower, worse than dying.”

Frisk looked horrified at Flowey's description. It was clear that Frisk's brief venture into soullessness had barely scratched the surface of the experience, and Frisk had no idea what it actually felt like.

Chara, though, stared back with painful recognition. “You too…”

“You always were the only one who understood me, Chara,” Flowey said softly. “And why wouldn't you? You're empty, like me.”

Chara’s eyes closed. Slowly but steadily, Chara breathed in and out, periodically wiping up tears on the sleeve of that ancient green and yellow sweater.

“I cannot stay,” Chara whispered, sobbing quietly. “I cannot bear this agony another moment. You cannot help me any more than you can help yourself.”

“I’m not ready to LOSE YOU AGAIN!” Flowey cried out.

His voice echoed in the still cavern.

Tears prickled at the corners of Flowey’s eyes. “You can’t leave me here, Chara. It’s so dark and cold and I’m so alone and afraid here, and I want to live but I can’t do it alone.”

Chara screamed, eyes squished shut. Flowey felt the universe lurch half-heartedly towards a reset, but Chara's determination was gone, and the attempt crumbled before Flowey or Frisk even needed to crush it.

If Frisk were to kill Chara now, Flowey had a sinking feeling that Chara would actually stay dead. And he would be all alone then, and he would never see his best friend again, or make home movies or play or make pies or anything with Chara ever again.

If there was anything left of Asriel inside him, it made itself known now. It filled his empty soul with determination, resolving to not lose Chara again. That part of him felt like fire, and it was screaming, and if anything ever felt like love, then this had to be it. This had to be love and compassion. And it was telling Flowey to stop this.

There had to be another way. Bullets and vines would accomplish nothing in this situation. He still had that accumulated power from the Barrier, though.

“We'll find another way!” Flowey cried out, voice strained. These were the words he should have spoken last time Chara had asked him to permit Chara's death. He wouldn't make that mistake a second time.  
“You cannot give me a SOUL you do not possess,” Chara said forcefully.

It was true. Flowey didn't have a SOUL. But… maybe he had something else.

What was the energy from when he had broken the Barrier, anyway? Residual soul magic, right? He could hear it screaming, feel it on fire within him. It felt… almost like having a SOUL again. 

Flowey took a deep breath. He knew what he had to do.

“I had been saving this for a special occasion,” he said hesitantly. Frisk frowned in confusion. Flowey continued.

“Chara, I broke the Barrier by absorbing six human souls and all the souls of every monster in the Underground. I couldn't keep them forever, but when I let them go, I was left with their residue. That power let me keep my true form for a little while after.”

Chara's jaw dropped slightly.

“I eventually stopped using it,” he continued. “I figured… well, I figured one day mom and dad would find out about me, and I wanted to be myself one last time for them. But this is more important.”

Chara's lips pursed. “What are you suggesting, exactly…”

“I think I could give you this energy!” Flowey burst out. “It's nothing like a human soul- it's like a little matchstick next to a bonfire by comparison. But… For somebody like you, somebody who's so cold and sad and empty, maybe it will be worth something.”

Chara's face betrayed conflicting emotions- selfless reluctance, mingled with desperation.

“If I take it,” Chara said slowly, “then you will be in my position. Empty and cold.”

Flowey laughed bitterly. “I lived that way through countless timelines. If anything, I think it'll be easier, actually. For me, I think all this energy stuff does is mockingly remind me of what it used to feel like to be happy. It's like giving a breath mint to somebody who's starving- it just makes the person even hungrier.”

Chara looked at the ground, but said nothing.  
“Besides!” Flowey said brightly. “If you have this soul residue, maybe you'll stop wanting to destroy everything. And if I start trying in your stead… well, there's not a lot I can do when I'm stuck in a flowerpot all day.” Flowey smiled sadly.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Frisk said seriously.

“Yes,” Flowey answered. “It's better than the alternative.”

Then Flowey sprouted closer to Chara. There he closed his eyes, and thought about the energy in him. It danced through his mind like smoke, slipping through his metaphorical fingertips whenever he tried to capture it too roughly, but eventually he coaxed all of it into a corner of his mind, where it swirled like sand in water.

From there, he just had to release it the way he had those souls. It was a feeling like letting go of a cliff face, and plummeting into an untold darkness below, but eventually the tiny light in his mind went out, leaving void in its place.

Suddenly a quiet light filled Flowey's surroundings, and he opened his eyes.

Before him floated something that looked a little like a SOUL. It had the same heart shape that all souls have, but instead of the vibrant colors of human souls, or the rich ivory of monster ones, this one was transparent-- as fragile and beautiful as a piece of blown glass.

Flowey felt a weight released from his shoulders. He could feel those quiet echoes of sentimentality vanish into peaceful numbness, along with those sensations of painful longing and nostalgia. With that, he knew that whatever echoes of Asriel might have remained within him had been snuffed out, leaving only Flowey.

And to him now, this came as a kind of relief.

Chara stared at the residual soul with awe and unbridled desire. Chara gently caught and cradled the thing, as though protecting a tiny matchstick flame from a blizzard. This residual soul embodied the hopes and dreams of every monster, fueled by the determination of six long-dead humans. To Flowey, who had been a monster with a higher love/compassion threshold than most, it had been ineffective at filling that emptiness. But in Chara's eyes it was a fire in the hearth at home, warm and bright and life-preserving.

Chara hugged the residual soul tightly as it dissipated into smoke once more, filling the empty vessel of Chara's form with a tiny amount of soul. 

The effect was that of a lit match being thrown into a pile of kindling coated in bug spray. Chara's body glowed with a flash of light for a moment before backing down to a more reasonable campfire glow, which soon faded.

Chara kicked away the dirt trapping their legs and waist before stepping from the shallow grave, skin no longer ashen. Chara's cheeks glowed rosy and lively as a small smile played at the corners of their mouth.

As Chara's eyes opened, Flowey recognized the gaze of his oldest friend. Not the demonic child without a SOUL who had meandered about in Chara's skin, but his sibling and confidante of old, his best friend Chara. Flowey recognized a spark of passion and intensity in Chara's eyes- the gaze of someone filled with a lot of determination... and love.

Chara knelt down and hugged Flowey.  
“Azzy, thank you,” Chara whispered. “You didn't have to do that.”

A few minutes ago, Flowey would have denied that, saying that he had to in order to save Chara's life, but he knew now Chara spoke the truth. And maybe it had been as selfish of a gesture as it had been selfless, because now he was free of the burden that the quasi-soul had placed on him. As awful as it was, he knew how to exist in a completely empty state. He would get by. He had spent long enough practicing.

It would be nice to have Chara around again. But he had placed Chara on such a pedestal over the years, and losing those echoes of Asriel helped him recognize that. Chara could be logical, practical, and polite, but Chara could also be brash, impulsive, and irrational. Sometimes Chara was more like the determined child who sacrificed to save the Underground, but other times more closely resembled the angry, bitter child who had sought the lives of several humans in revenge for past wrongs.

Chara was not that great of a person sometimes, but Flowey figured that didn't matter too much. Frisk had saved the Underground and killed everyone in it at different times. Dad had worked tirelessly to better his kingdom, but had slaughtered six human children who fell into it. Mom had rescued the fallen human children and given them a home in the Underground, but she had also set Flowey on fire on more than one occasion, and not always for justifiable reasons.

Flowey himself had toyed with the lives of those in the Underground for his own personal amusement, but he also broke the Barrier and gave up all of those souls so they could be happy.

Maybe, if Flowey could learn to forgive and forget the mistakes of others, they might be more likely to do the same with him. Maybe it was okay to like people who made mistakes, even if they hurt you before. 

Flowey hoped that was true.

\---

Suddenly, a number of people stormed into the cavern all at once. First were Asgore and Toriel, hands ablaze, followed by a spear-wielding Undyne, with Papyrus and Sans following behind.

“Frisk! Are you alright?” Toriel cried out as she ran from the entrance towards the group gathered in the patch of flowers. “My child, you disappeared from your bed, please tell me you are-”

Then she stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide in shock, as she saw the scene before her.

Chara gave a small wave. “Hi.”

Toriel's head shook slowly. “Chara… it is impossible... Asgore, look…”

The king of the Underground, dressed regally in his full armor and cape, could only nod once as he stared. His trident slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground.

“How,” he said quietly.

“A bit of a long story,” Chara admitted with a small smile, looking away.

“Uh, should we come back later?” Undyne said. “Or can one of you guys tell us what's going on?”

“I can tell you the short version,” Chara said. “I fell to the Underground a long time ago, and was taken into the Dreemurr family. Then I died, and Asriel went to the surface with my soul and got killed, so my soul died too.”

Undyne, Papyrus, and Sans wore matching slack jawed expressions. “They had a human kid?” Papyrus whispered loudly to Sans. Sans held up a silencing finger, eyes locked on Chara.

Chara continued. “But Frisk fell on my grave and accidentally gave me residual determination, which allowed me to come back to life without a SOUL. That was not very fun. But I think I might be okay now, thanks to Frisk and Asriel.”

The room went very quiet. Flowey's eyes turned to dinner plates, and he suddenly felt physically ill.

“A… Asriel…” Toriel whispered.  
“Is he here too?” Asgore asked, eyes shining.

Flowey could feel Frisk and Chara's eyes boring holes into the back of his head. This was it. This was the ABSOLUTE WORST case scenario.

Now Toriel and Asgore stared at him expectantly, with Sans, Papyrus, and Undyne making confused glances at each other in the background.

Flowey turned around. Frisk cringed apologetically while Chara looked back in confusion, as though to say, “they didn't already know?”

Welp. There was no getting out of this one, was there?

Flowey laughed a little, voice shaky. “Heh. That's kind of a long story, too.”

His parents knelt down to see him closer to eye level.

“It is true?” Asgore said quietly.

Flowey closed his eyes, and let his face melt into fur and magic, until he stared back at his parents with the face of their dead child. His old face.

“Hi,” he said simply, smiling sadly.

His parents stared back in utter shock and disbelief. Chara, exercising the newfound ability to feel something akin to love, pulled the three of them into a hug.

Flowey grimaced in anticipation of the familiar pang of absence, that reminder that he could not feel love for his family as he ought to, but it never came. He was content simply to be. And maybe existing with his family on the surface… well, maybe that might not be so bad?

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...:')
> 
> (We're not done here yet. We're getting close, though. There will be at least one more chapter.)


	19. Conclusion

The months that followed were filled with changes- some large, some small.

Chara went home with Toriel, who still had a few mementos of Chara’s from back in the day. New versions of the rest were purchased, like toothbrushes and tennis shoes. Frisk's bed was converted to a bunk bed. Frisk and Chara and Flowey all ended up sharing the same bedroom, which was fine- it was a big enough room, and Flowey didn’t exactly take up a lot of space.

The three of them seemed to spend more and more time visiting Asgore. Toriel was wary of this at first, but over time seemed to warm up to the idea at least somewhat. Asgore was Chara’s dad, after all, and Flowey’s too. While Frisk attended the last few weeks of school before summer vacation, Chara and Flowey got to catch up with their parents, which was a nice opportunity. Toriel made it clear that they would be expected to attend school in the fall, when her new school finished construction-- and it was getting pretty close already.

Chara was eventually appointed as co-ambassador alongside Frisk. It remained to be seen if/when Flowey would reprise his role as Royal Prince, but Flowey was in no hurry to rush that particular discussion.

One day, the three of them sat down with their parents and explained all of what had happened, in this and other timelines. It was a difficult story to tell, and judging by their reactions it was no easier to hear, but it was still important to talk about. That discussion helped clear up some unanswered questions and put them all on the same page.

On the other hand, some things didn't change a bit. Papyrus still made spaghetti and drove around town in his fancy red car. Undyne still suplexed things just because she could. Sans still made bad puns and good hot dogs. Slowly people’s lives and hearts grew to make room for Chara and Flowey.

The summer was filled with bright days and children's laughter. People who knew Chara and Frisk before they fell would likely not recognize them now- both were now a little taller and a lot happier, and much busier with various activities. Frisk started taking dance lessons. Chara spent a lot of time at the library, doing ambassadorial and other research. The two also spent a lot of time playing around like any kids would, biking and hiking and throwing frisbees and playing video games. They got to live the lives that they had so nearly been robbed, and experience the happiness that one would wish upon any growing child.

In the same vein, Flowey felt confident that people wouldn't recognize him as Asriel, either. Even flowery-ness aside, Flowey was ruthless where Asriel had been kind, and cunning where Asriel had been naive. But wasn't that the point of being a kid-- to learn and grow into something better than what you used to be? Flowey didn't know if he was better than Asriel had been. He settled for “different” and left it at that.

One day, Chara showed Frisk and Flowey the gravesite of Chara's parents, who had passed away in the many years since Chara had first fallen to the Underground. Interestingly enough, the next tombstone over was designated as Chara’s- probably from when the humans had seen Chara's dead body in town square before it had been carried back to the Underground. In any case, Chara symbolically buried a familiar old pocketknife at its base, and then walked away without another word. On the way out, Frisk pointed out the gravestones of their former family, and Flowey created a bouquet of blooming vines to decorate them. Then the three of them went by the candy shop (which now sold monster candy alongside human varieties), and they split a five-pound bag as they walked home.

As a summer project, Alphys set to building Flowey a remote-control car that might afford him some mobility. The final product was clunky but effective, and while Frisk or Chara would still often carry his flowerpot for sheer convenience, the car let him move around the house when they left the house. It even went up and down stairs! Alphys said she might fine-tune the design at a later date, though. She was never satisfied with her own work, regardless of how good it was.

After hearing his children confess to their mistakes, Asgore eventually found the courage to speak with human authorities about the six human souls that were used to break the Barrier. It was decided that Asgore would be put to trial for his actions. Asgore openly admitted that he hoped he would be sentenced to community service to allow him to give back to the community he had harmed. Meanwhile, Toriel openly expressed her disgust for his actions, but Flowey also overheard a phone call or two in which Toriel admitted to Undyne that if the human council tried to subject him to the death penalty or any other such atrocious punishment, then she would come after them for their crimes against monsterkind. If humans would continue to inflict undue suffering on monsters, well… she would not allow that to happen.

Most of all, if she could bring herself to forgive her children their mistakes, then she could at the very least bring herself to understand Asgore's point of view when he had sought to free monsterkind. Her once-fiery temper and contempt for him had simmered to a quieter begrudging acceptance, and Flowey guessed that with enough time and perspective, she might even come to forgive him in some capacity. Only time would tell.

Eventually time passed, and on a warm evening in mid-September, Flowey found himself at a grand opening ceremony for Toriel's new school, which happened to coincide with the one year anniversary of the breaking of the Barrier. As a result, the ceremony doubled as a party for the community, and it was a festive occasion indeed.

“Are you having the time of your lives, darlings?” Mettaton spoke into the microphone, winking at the crowd. “This next song goes out to all of you beautiful people, monsters and humans alike! Get some sunglasses, beauties, because the future we share together is BRIGHT!”

Then Napstablook and Shyren kicked off an upbeat tune, and the crowd went wild.

While Mettaton made some fancy moves onstage, punctuated by occasional emcee remarks, a crowd of people danced and mingled below in the school gym, which was lined with chairs surrounding a huge space for dancing and whatnot. From his vantage point in the corner of the room, Flowey could see Papyrus dancing energetically, Burgerpants flirting unsuccessfully with two human girls, and Undyne whispering something to Alphys that made her turn beet red. Some things never changed, heh.

“hey,” a voice said from behind Flowey.

Flowey turned around to see Sans, dressed in a suit with a blue boutonniere. Papyrus wore an identical outfit (albeit in a larger size) across the room.

“What do you want?” Flowey grumbled.

Sans held his hands up in innocence. “Hey, I'm not here to make trouble this time,” he said lightly. Flowey squinted in suspicion.

“Just saw you hanging out here by yourself, and thought that was a royal mistake.”

“Sans,” Flowey growled in a warning tone.

“Aw come on, I wasn't going to leaf you all alone over here.”

Flowey glared wearily at the grinning skeleton, who seemed all too pleased with himself for being a filthy punner.

“You and your stupid, boneheaded puns.”

“Hehe. Not bad, kiddo,” Sans said with a wink. Flowey stuck out his tongue.

“Listen,” Sans said, maybe a little more serious than before. “I don't really blame you for getting apprehensive about me or whatever. I know we've had our differences in the past.”

Flowey grunted. “Bit of an understatement,” he mumbled under his breath.

“But hey,” Sans said casually, looking at Flowey with bright eyes. “You haven’t hurt any folks this run, right? So I guess that makes you pretty okay in my books.”

Flowey's mouth twitched at a half-smile, but didn't get all the way there.

“Also, I dunno if I ever got around to saying it,” Sans added, a little quieter, “but that thing you did for Chara… I respect that a lot. Sacrifice is still sacrifice, even when it's for family.”

Flowey gave a kind of shrugging motion. “It’s not a big deal.” That wasn't entirely true, but Sans didn't need to know that.

Sans winked, seeming to catch on regardless. “Right,” he said with a knowing grin. “Still. Maybe you're not so bad.”

“This is surely the highest compliment I have ever been paid,” Flowey said in a deadpan voice.

Sans laughed as he walked off. Then, calling over his shoulder, barely audible over the din of the school auditorium, “Nice stickers.”

Flowey looked down at his flowerpot. It had a few of his snazziest stickers from his weekly arcade visits with Papyrus. His other pot was lined with nearly a dozen of them, but this was a fancier pot for special occasions, so the decorative stickers were chosen tastefully. The pot was glazed a rich violet, with inlaid tile in the shape of the Delta Rune. It had been a gift from Asgore a few months back. Speaking of whom, he seemed to have somehow cajoled Toriel into a slow dance. Impressive.

“Heya!” Frisk greeted, approaching Flowey with Chara close behind. Frisk wore a suit jacket with a skirt, while Chara wore the jacket’s matching slacks/loafers with the skirt’s matching satin top. Apparently humans didn't really make a lot of gender-neutral formal clothing? Weird. Well, this solution worked.

“Wanna come dance and stuff?” Frisk asked cheerfully.

Flowey stared blankly at Frisk. “How would that even work?”

Chara smiled. “Come on Azzy, I bet you could dance if you wanted to!”

Flowey stared incredulously back, but Chara looked at him expectantly. Flowey rolled his eyes and swayed a little in his pot. This was ridiculous.

Apparently Frisk and Chara thought so too, because they both burst out laughing.

“Forget it,” Flowey said grumpily.

“Are you kidding? That was the cutest thing ever!” Frisk gushed as Chara elbowed them in the side, head shaking emphatically.

“Forget you,” Flowey said, voice acidic.

“Oh come on,” Chara chided, shooting a brief wide-eyed glance at Frisk. “What will you do otherwise- sit here and watch? What fun is that?”

“This was a poorly conceived venture and I regret coming to this event at all,” Flowey declared. Chara pouted.

“Fine,” Chara said with an eyeroll. “Go ahead and be mister grumpy roots. Hey, wanna go see Undyne lift the ice statue of Mettaton in front of the office?”

Well, at least that sounded interesting.

Flowey conceded and allowed Chara to bring him out to the front foyer of the school. It was truly a spectacle- Undyne in a black sleeveless gown, lifting a huge ice statue on her back while grinning widely. An onlooking crowd cheered while Alphys watched from several feet away, making not-so-subtle heart eyes at her girlfriend. 

Then Sans of all people walked over and began to pile hot dogs on top of the head of the statue. Everyone laughed. If there were ever a more perfect summation of monster culture as a whole, Flowey was certain that he would never live to see it.

On the one hand, Flowey could remember deprecated timelines where he had murdered a lot of these folks, but on the other hand, a lot of them were too interesting to kill anymore, honestly. The longer they went on the surface, the more their behavior patterns changed, and the more unpredictable and fascinating they became. They were like games in the arcade- even though they substantially stayed the same over time, it was still fun to play games he had played before, and appreciate deviations in behavior as the interesting developments they were. The RNG kept a lot of games fresh and interesting, and reframing monsters in a surface setting opened them up to countless possibilities.

“Hey Azzy, I bet you could knock over that top hot dog with a bullet,” Chara pointed out mischievously. That was a tempting thought.

“Careful, you might set it on fire like you did my bed!” Frisk laughed.

Flowey sighed deeply before screaming, “I've told you a million times, that wasn't on purpose!” over the cacophony of cheering.

Chara's eyebrows raised. “What is this?”

Frisk interjected before Flowey got a word in edgewise. “Flowey set my bed on fire a little before we came to find you.”

Chara stifled a giggle. “Why?”

“Because he was being a turd,” Frisk shrugged. 

Flowey didn't object to being called a turd when he was deliberately acting like a turd, but this was blatant misinformation, so he protested. “That wasn't what happened!”

Chara humored him. “Alright, what happened then?”

Flowey huffed. “I was trying to get a book down from Frisk's bookshelf! I couldn't reach it with vines, so I tried bullets, and… well, things got out of hand.”

Frisk just about busted a gut laughing.  
“Okay, you win,” Frisk said, gasping for breath. “That story... is way better… than the other thing. Rest in pieces... Mew Mew Kissy... Kissy Cutie.”

Chara snorted. “Wait, you set Frisk's bed on fire trying to get ahold of some anime?” 

“Shut up!!” Flowey hollered, flailing vines at a snickering Chara. He was never going to live this down, was he? Judging by Chara and Frisk’s expressions, that was a flat no.

“I hate you both,” Flowey grumbled. Frisk’s hands made a little heart symbol in response while Frisk was busy doubled over laughing.

Sans continued to stack hot dogs on the statue. When he hit his 30 hot dog limit, Papyrus gave him a boost, and Sans kept stacking hot dogs while standing atop his brother. This was getting preposterous.

Of course, Toriel displayed a sense of excellent timing and walked in while this was going on. Her eyes turned to dinner plates. “What is going on here?”

Sans grinned from atop the ice statue, still stacking hot dogs. “We're stacking.”

“Stacking what??” Toriel replied, horrified.

“Cold dogs.”

Toriel stared back at Sans,the ice statue, and the pile of meat for a long moment before she burst out into a fit of giggles.

“Wait, cold dogs?” Papyrus called out. “Then I know what should go on top!”

Then he ran off, returning five minutes later with a small fluffy white dog, who was momentarily distracted by a bone-shaped doggie treat while Papyrus carried him.

“This is a dog, and he has very cold feet! And somehow it seems fitting for him to top off this whole mess,” Papyrus said with a grin as he passed the pooch to Sans, who shrugged and stacked the cold dog on top of the stack of cold dogs. The entire cold dog stack was a mockery of the laws of physics. It was wonderful.

“Hey Chara… You got a camera?” Flowey asked. Chara nodded and handed it over immediately. Flowey had always been the better photographer, and a display like this deserved a proper rendering.

“Ah, what a display!” The real Mettaton said dreamily, watching the spectacle. “My spirits are lifted higher this ice sculpture reproduction of me!” He struck a dynamic pose for the camera. Undyne saw Flowey, and put on a broad grin. She was barely breaking a sweat holding the entire pile of nonsense together- strongfish91 indeed!

Flowey propped the camera up on a vine, lined up the crowd in the lens, and…

CLICK

\---

“That was so much fun!” Frisk gushed in the car ride home. Chara was smiling too, and Toriel looked tired but happy. The event had been an overwhelming success.

Even so, everybody seemed kind of worn out, and Flowey looked forward to the prospect of a good night's rest. Frisk carried Flowey through the front door…

where Asgore and Alphys were waiting patiently in the living room.

“Oh. Hi,” Flowey said, surprised. “Not to be rude, but what're you doing here?”

Alphys didn't answer; she sat on the couch, busy fiddling with some weird kind of machine on her lap. Um. What.

Asgore only stared back enigmatically, sitting on a bar stool in the living room, with an empty barstool beside him. “Suffice to say, a happy surprise,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Flowey frowned and looked at Frisk, whose eyebrows waggled up and down. There was something fishy going on here.

“Something that has been in the works for a little while,” Chara said, walking through the door with a small smile. “A research project of mine that finally yielded some results.”

“Okay, you're actually kind of freaking me out a bit, to be honest,” Flowey said, squinting.

“It is not a thing to be freaked out over,” Toriel said as she walked through the door, taking the empty barstool beside Asgore.

“I have been studying up on human magic as of late,” Chara said shyly, rocking back and forth on the heels of their feet. “Human magic is good at preserving things to last, and also for healing and fixing things that are broken.”

Flowey still squinted in suspicion.

“So I got to thinking of a way to bring back your soul,” Chara continued. “As a way of repaying you, I guess. For what you did for me.”

“And… well, w-we think we've found a way to do it!” Alphys said excitedly, claws absentmindedly tinkering with the strange device. 

“Do you remember what we told you about boss monster souls, a long time ago?” Asgore asked gently. “About the way they flow from parent to child?”

“Well yeah,” Flowey said dismissively. “But that connection was broken a long time ago. I don't see how that could help with… well…” His voice got a little shaky at the end.

“Soul energy transfers from parent to child by way of magic,” Toriel explained brightly. “This is a bond that transcends time and space, and which can only be severed by death. But your essence lives on, and we suspect it may be possible to reestablish the connection!”

...  
Crap, Flowey was shaking a little. This had to be some kind of cruel prank.

“I-I mean, it's not like everything will be super hunky dory right off the bat,” Alphys clarified with a nervous grin. “When you.. um… w-when you died, a lot of that soul energy from your mom and dad just kind of blew away in the wind, and you w-won't be able to get THAT back, b-but you should get a flow of new soul energy instead.”

Alphys looked away nervously. “I-It's my fault you came back this way, and I'm so, so sorry that my actions caused you suffering. Hopefully this might make things better.”

Flowey was silent for a long moment while he struggled with words. “So… if this works, will I still have to be a flower? I-I can go back to…”

“Probably not at first,” Alphys answered. “But long term? The sky's the limit here! This is unexplored terrain, and you're something of a special case yourself. On the one hand, you might still be a flower, but you get a SOUL from the whole deal, which w-would be an improvement, at least. Or maybe you'll outgrow your flower form and… well, go back to being you. Or maybe something in between! You might get to switch back and forth like you do with those silly faces of yours.”

Flowey stared back in shock.

“I-It's not without its risks,” Alphys admitted. “I mean, speaking personally, my track record is not so great. But we're not really working with determination here, so I think it'll be a good thing. And if you want us to try…”

Flowey looked around the room at all of the supportive smiles and people around him. Here were a collection of people who wanted to do something nice for him, a murderous flower with no soul. Why?

He thought of his parents. If this plan went through…

“Won't you guys die if you do this?” Flowey asked curiously, looking at Toriel and Asgore. He really wasn't worth the trouble. Why would anyone do that to themselves?

Toriel laughed. “My child, that was an eventuality that was determined long before you were born. We made that choice then, and will follow through on our end of the arrangement now.”

Asgore gave a fond smile. “Besides, we have both lived a very long time- many lifetimes longer than most beings, human or monster. I cannot think of a better way to leave this world than by securing you a lifetime of happiness.”

“Even so, that will not happen for a long while yet,” Toriel said brightly. “We should still have many, many years to share on this earth together before that day comes.”

“So, what will it be?” Chara asked Flowey. “Do you want to try?”

Flowey gave a quiet, shaky laugh. “Well duh, it sounds like a no brainer to me,” he admitted. 

Alphys grinned and handed his flowerpot to Chara on the couch before setting up an assortment of equipment. Toriel and Asgore each received a heavy-looking, metallic, heart-shaped pendant to wear around their necks. These pendants hung at heart level on the two huge boss monsters, and were soon connected to a thick coil of wires. These wires led to a container that resembled the glass chambers that Asgore had used to store the human souls in. It was empty right now.

Flowey received a smaller pendant as well, which sat awkwardly on the soil of his pot and led to a similar coil of wires. Alphys connected it to the base of the chamber.

“Do you see these three lights here?” Alphys said, pointing to three small lightbulbs on the chamber. “These represent soul energy. When all three are lit, Chara can do… Something to connect them. But w-we need them to light up first.”

“How do we do that?” Toriel asked.

“By the power of love and friendship!” Alphys said with a grin. Frisk snorted and bobbed up and down with silent laughter while Toriel and Asgore looked around in confusion. 

“No, but really,” Alphys said seriously. “The device has to find the two source souls and the destination soul so Chara can reconnect the old spell the bound them together. Since monster souls are made of love and compassion, they're the s-strongest and easiest to detect when filled with love and compassion. So in order for the device to find them, you'll have to think of something you love.”

Asgore closed his eyes, and a light came on almost immediately. Flowey imagined him thinking of his kingdom and family, and wasn't surprised in the least. Toriel's followed very soon after, probably fueled by the memories of children for whom she had cared over the years.

But that third light stayed unlit.

Alphys shifted nervously. “T-t-this is the hard part. Flowey, you don't have a soul anymore, but your essence is still kicking. W-we gotta find a way to get you connected to the chamber, but we'll have to do it through your essence, not your soul.”

Flowey stared at the light, gaze blank.

“D-do… C-can you remember anything about when you had a SOUL?” Alphys probed timidly. “Maybe even just a memory of feeling love will do it.”

Flowey thought hard. It had been a year since the incident with the Barrier. His memories from it had faded considerably, and felt more like a second-hand recounting rather than memories of his own. And before that… He couldn't even say how long it had been since he'd felt love or compassion, and the memories from back then had all but withered away.

Flowey stared at the light. There had to be something. This had to work.

“OK ummm, let's try something else,” said Alphys awkwardly after a few minutes. “Your essence is tied to your memories, right? So maybe a memory that you recall strongly, maybe about something besides love. Just s-something to connect you to your parents.”

Flowey thought, digging through the crevasses of his mind for something that might do the trick. But memories without their related emotions felt like forgotten dreams, and they scattered in his mind as he tried to gather them.

Flowey's jaw clenched in frustration. It was like fighting through paralysis- his will to feel was strong, but the numbness took no regard for force of will. A broken toy was still broken, no matter how much a child willed otherwise.

The light on the chamber refused to light up.

Flowey's face instinctively turned sharp and jagged for a moment, but he took a breath and reined it in. Losing his cool wouldn't help this situation.

Frisk's eyebrows suddenly raised in a realization, and Frisk ran from the room for a moment.

“I'm sorry,” Alphys said weakly. “I know this isn't a fair thing to ask of you. But otherwise we won’t know where the energy should flow to.”

She was right. It wasn't fair. But Flowey wasn't going to let it stop him. He gave it another shot, pressing the limits of his memories, digging deeper and deeper for something that might do the trick...

Then Frisk came back into the room, and a music box melody pierced the air.

That song.

He knew that song.  
Flowey knew that song.  
Asriel knew that song.

Asriel had a music box that used to play that song, a long time ago. It was given to him… Was it a gift from Santa Claus? Was it from somewhere else? It had ended up in the Royal memorial fountain, before that had been demolished. Had Frisk found it in the dump somewhere?

Asriel remembered keeping that music box next to Chara's bed, on the shelf under that old family picture. Right underneath Chara's drawing of that golden flower. Asriel had always wanted to see those flowers up close and in person.

He remembered the gentle softness of his flannel bedding, often sloppy and unmade, and the cotton of the stuffed animals that often fell behind his bed. He remembered the scent of butterscotch cinnamon.

Asriel remembered the feeling of dirt between his toes. He remembered running his hand along the scratchy rock in the Barrier room, and the vivid shades of gold in the stained glass hallway.

He remembered floating outside the Barrier, filled with hundreds of souls, spattering the air with rainbow bullets. He remembered the crackling of static and the booming explosions, and the entire world ending at his hand.

But that wasn't all. Those memories mingled with memories of speaking with Papyrus as Flowey, and helping a hundred people in a hundred timelines, and sitting alone in the entrance cavern of the Underground. He remembered playing video games with Frisk, and munching on a chunk of cinnamon bunny left in his flowerpot, and the admiration of the two humans who had watched him get the high score on that arcade game. He remembered pelting Frisk with vegetables and swiping away at snail books and winning at Operation.

He had always compartmentalized his Asriel memories from his Flowey ones, but now he wondered if he could truly divorce himself from his mistakes so easily. He had made mistakes as both of them. He was both Flowey and Asriel, and he couldn't embrace either identity without accepting the other as well.

The music box continued to play its tinkling melody, and Flowey closed his eyes and laughed. His mind swirled with memories- of mom, dad, and Chara from when he was Asriel, and other memories of when he was Flowey. Memories of Frisk and Papyrus and Asgore and dozens of others who had treated him kindly since then.

Flowey almost didn't see it, but his light began to shine-- faintly and hesitantly, but enough. The chamber had found his soul... or, at least, the place where his soul used to be. 

“Chara, you’re up,” Alphys said hurriedly, watching the tiny lights on the chamber as though they might snuff out at any second.

Chara smirked and stood by the machine. With a dainty heart-shaped hand gesture, the residual soul departed from Chara’s body and became visible in the living room. It had grown under Chara's care, and resembled less a piece of blown glass now than it did a faceted jewel, sparkling and complex and colored with the barest shade of pink, like rose quartz.

Alphys turned a dial on the chamber, which released a fine mist of soul energy into Chara's grasp. Chara cupped it tightly and squished it all together, mingling the essences of the three boss monsters.

“Now for the hard part,” Chara said, taking a deep breath.

Then Chara's residual soul flashed brightly three times. Flowey felt the third flash like a sucker punch to the gut, and was left reeling for breath afterwards…

But something had changed. Flowey suddenly felt a distinct stinging sensation on his stem, just below his face. The place where his heart would be.

Chara’s eyes and hands opened, revealing an ivory thread of light as thin as spiderweb, stretching between Toriel and Asgore’s hearts before joining into a single thread attached to Flowey just below his head. Frisk and Alphys stared at the thread in awe, their jaws all but hitting the floor.

Chara gave a sincere, happy laugh, seemingly ecstatic that it had worked. Then Chara’s soul flashed red for brief moment, tingeing the thread with pink before it faded back to ivory. Flowey felt a surge of something familiar- DETERMINATION.

“That should preserve the connection,” Chara said confidently. “Magic should take care of the rest.”

Then Chara gently released the thread, which vanished from sight as Chara’s soul reentered their body. Suddenly Flowey’s stinging sensation intensified. No, this wasn't stinging anymore. This was fire. Flowey felt like he was on fire and it hurt and he cried out…

“Asriel?” Toriel cried out, eyes fearful.  
“Alphys…” Asgore said calmly, but his eyes betrayed panic.  
“I don't know!” Alphys said fearfully. “Maybe the soul magic isn't reacting well with him? That doesn't make sense, though. He's a flower, he's a perfect vessel for soul energy. I don't understand…”

The fire carved Flowey out from the inside, filling every fiber of his being with a burning feeling. It was too much. He hadn't received soul energy this way in such a long time, and the mechanism by which he had done so had long since scarred over from disuse. But eventually the fire worked its way through him, smoothing the jagged edges where his soul had shattered, scorching away the root of the problem, leaving light in its wake.

Flowey started laughing now, in Asriel's voice. He glowed with a gentle ivory light, and the fire filled him completely now, slowly warming the numb recesses of his mind, reminding him what it was to feel love and compassion with the energy of his own soul. The soul energy still kind of hurt to feel after all this time, like the way antibacterial cream stung when applied to an injury, but it was purifying and cleansing and... cathartic. 

The stinging subsided soon thereafter, leaving only the light and warmth. He had been empty for so long, and thought he would never feel this again. This was truly a miracle.

Flowey looked up at the people around him in the room. Mom and Dad looked at him with tears in their eyes, as though they were seeing their long-lost son for the first time. In a lot of ways, they were. Alphys smiled timidly, as though she was still silently begging for forgiveness, but she had saved his life, and needed no forgiveness from him. Flowey smiled at her to affirm that this was the case.

Frisk looked at him in recognition, as though trying to place a familiar face. If Frisk were to call him Asriel, that might not be so bad. He might permit that.

Chara looked at him with an empathetic grin, understanding what he was going through and how it felt to have a soul again after so long, and how it felt to not have to be empty anymore. It was the gaze of a survivor seeing someone overcome the same struggles that they had overcome. It was the gaze of understanding and solidarity.

“How do you feel?” Chara asked, eyes wide, shining fondly.

Flowey thought for a moment. How did he feel? He was at home, surrounded by his loved ones, with even more friends nearby in town. He could feel the void in his being shrink more and more with every passing second. He was warm and safe and cared for and not alone.

For the first time in a very long time, he felt…

“Happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gents, this has been The Root Of The Problem. *takes a bow*
> 
> I made this fic because I always kept hoping for a way to help Asriel at the end of Undertale. He gets the short end of the narrative stick in a lot of ways, so this is me fixing that unfortunate ending. It's also a commemoration for Chara, who too often is portrayed as the embodiment of the "Redemption Equals Death" trope. I think that's unfortunate. Undertale is a game about forgiving people who make mistakes, even when they hurt you, and this fic reflects that. It shows the journey of Flowey learning to forgive Chara, Chara learning to forgive Frisk, Toriel learning to forgive Asgore, Sans learning to forgive Flowey, etc. That's why it's important that Chara live. Dying a tragic figure is the easy way out for someone like Chara- because then Chara never actually gets confronted with the repercussions of their actions. But that's meaningless to people in real life, who will actually have to deal with consequences in the course of their lives, so I wanted to explore what continuing to live might mean for Chara and Flowey. 
> 
> This fic is also a commemoration to the idea that anyone can be a good person if they try, and that even people who screw up still deserve to be happy. I like to believe that's true. This story set out to show what exactly would happen if Flowey had to own up to his past behaviors, and I think it succeeded! The thing Flowey learned is that even if you can't erase consequences (Frisk tried and got them into this whole mess in the first place :P), you can make do with the consequences of your actions and make something good in its place. It won't be the way things were before, but it can still be good in its own way.
> 
> I would like to offer my most sincere thanks and gratitude to everyone reading this. Thank you for coming on this journey with me! I had a real blast compiling and writing up this fic, and I read and loved every single one of your comments. 
> 
> If you liked this fic, you can follow me at rhyselinn.tumblr.com- I make Undertale stuff every so often, and sometimes original stuff as well. I'm working on such an original project right now- keep your eyes peeled for news on that subject. ;D
> 
> Thanks again to everyone for reading this. Sleep well and dream of Flowey, and see ya on the flip side!


	20. Coda

A year later, Frisk and Chara sat on the ridge of the mountain near the exit to the Underground. Next to them sat the fuzzy form of a furry boss monster wearing a green and yellow striped shirt. That boss monster went by the names Flowey and Asriel interchangeably now, but since he had assumed his boss monster form for the time being, he was Asriel at the moment.

“Man, I had forgotten what a good view this was,” Asriel said, kicking his feet back and forth over the ledge. “I guess I was a little too distracted to focus on it the other times I’ve been here.”

“We were rather busy at the time,” Chara said with a hint of a smile. It had been long enough since then that they could laugh about it now.

“The first time I left the Underground with everyone, we all just stood here and stared at the view for a long time,” Frisk reminisced. 

“I still can’t believe how big that city over there in the distance has gotten. It was a tiny village like mine when I was growing up,” Chara remarked. Asriel suspected that it was jarring to realize just how much had changed over time, but also comforting in a way. Chara never seemed troubled by these discrepancies, only curious or amused.

“Change is a part of growing up. I guess it’s only to be expected,” Frisk said with a shrug. “How’re you doing, Asriel?”  
“Doing fine. Still got an hour or two left in me,” Asriel said casually. With some practice, he’d gotten to the point of being able to maintain his true form for a few hours at a time before reverting to a flower. It was a work in progress. He was just glad to be able to do it at all, honestly. Vines were nice for some things, but they couldn’t compare to the versatility of actual fingers.  
“Oh, and my soul isn’t transparent anymore!” he said proudly. “Look!”

In a smooth gesture, he gently released his soul from his chest, revealing a familiar heart-shaped entity. It wasn’t nearly the glowing ivory that it had been before, but it wasn’t transparent, either. It refracted light a bit now, like frosted glass. Asriel beamed.

“Impressive!” Chara remarked with a smile. “Mine’s a little more solid too, but it’s still pink. I don’t know if it’ll ever be truly red again. But maybe that’s ok—it does what it needs to do.”

“Yeah, same,” Asriel grinned. The two fist bumped. 

Frisk smiled, staring at the valley. Far off in the distance, the sunlight scattered on the surface of the ocean and bathed the hilly surface of the valley in a golden light. It had been about two years since monsters had left the Underground, and they had ultimately settled into society very nicely. There would always be work to be done in furthering monster-human relations, but there was every reason to be proud of the progress that had been made.

“Do you…” Chara started, but faltered.  
“Huh?” Frisk said, turning to Chara.

“Do you ever wonder what will happen next?” Chara asked thoughtfully, fingers playing at their shirt sleeve. "We’ve all been through so much. Even though I guess that time of our lives is over, it still feels like it isn’t sometimes. That we still have to fight for… I don’t know, recognition. Happiness. I dunno.”

“Well, in a way, we kind of are,” Asriel pointed out. “We’ll carry the memories of what we went through for the rest of our lives, and that’s a kind of battle in and of itself. You and I still have the scars from that in our weakened souls, and Frisk probably has different stuff on their plate. Dealing with that stuff… it never really ends. It’s an ongoing journey.”

Frisk’s lips pursed contemplatively. “I like to think that we grew from it all, though. If we learned something from it, then maybe it wasn’t all a waste. And learning from our mistakes is kind of the point of being a kid.”

Chara smiled. “Yeah, I guess so. And we learned from it together.”  
Asriel’s hand traced the familiar shape of an old locket that hung around his neck. “Best friends forever, right?”  
Frisk grinned. “Until the very end.”

The three of them stared out at the valley again for a long moment.

“We should probably start heading back soon,” Chara finally said. “It’s a bit of a hike to get back home, and we should probably leave before we have to carry Asriel home in a flower pot.”  
“No way! I could burrow home faster than both of you!” Asriel said proudly.

“Is that a challenge?” Frisk mused. “Chara, I think that sounds like a challenge.”  
“I think you’re right, Frisk,” Chara said with raised eyebrows, eyes locked onto Asriel.

“Alright, then a race it is!” Asriel declared. “Ready, set…” 

But before he said go, there was a flash of light, and a tiny yellow flower could be seen burrowing into the ground at a breakneck pace.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Chara called out before bolting down the mountain, with a laughing Frisk following closely behind. 

It was certainly true that the three of them had been through a lot, Flowey mused as he gleefully burrowed through the ancient surface of Mt. Ebott. But if going through all of those things was necessary so they could reach this happy ending, then maybe… just maybe, it had all been worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I think this is probably done for real this time. Or maybe I'll be back in ten years to talk about how these three have been doing in the ten years since the ending lol. (probably not) 
> 
> Either way, it's been a pleasure.


End file.
